


Perfect Creation

by inb4invert, SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alien Planet, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Retro Futurism, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Android Credence Barebone, Androids, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Bedrooms, Beta Colony, Birthday, Birthday Cake, Blow Jobs, Coffee Shops, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Don't copy to another site, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Embarrassment, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Found Family, Friendship, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Happy Credence Barebone, Healing, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Innocence, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, M/M, Male Slash, Party, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rimming, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Science, Science Fiction, Scientist Original Percival Graves, Slash, Slow Dancing, Surprises, Terraforming, Transformation, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22487686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inb4invert/pseuds/inb4invert, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: Lonely scientist Dr Graves has always lived for his work. Now his work has come to life, and he finds he's woefully unprepared for both the joy and the mayhem he's unleashed.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Comments: 59
Kudos: 132
Collections: ❤️ Gradence for the Soul ❤️





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   

> 
> Tags will be added with each chapter, but there'll be no nasty surprises. :)

All his life, Dr Percival Graves had held a certain _vision_. One he pursued tirelessly, as a boy: in dreams, and as a man: in his work as a professor of more advanced scientific disciplines than most would care to count.

In the end, it was the people of the Terra Beta colony who _had_ counted those many skills and held them in high esteem--enough to earn him a place of respect within their intrepid terraforming project.

But that esteem didn't extend to his vision, a personal ambition that many people there considered futile, whether they voiced their doubts aloud or chose not to. Not one amongst his colleagues hadn't found themselves at least once or twice shaking their head sadly, whispering over the folly of the brilliant and lonely doctor.

Still, no obstacle or doubt--whether his own or anyone else's--had ever been enough to move Dr Graves from his purpose. And then the day came when he was able to thank himself for his perseverance, a day that despite the rising and setting of the foreign planet's sun, was still unlike any other in human history. It was, put simply, a very, _very_ special birthday.

He stood in his living room, the largest window facing what seemed, to him, the most glorious sunrise yet on this new world: the perfect welcome from a new world to a new life. He smiled proudly as he added the finishing touches which would bring his pride and joy to life before his very eyes.

The catlike eyes opened first and, for a minute or two, the lifting of the lids was the only motion. It didn’t matter, because Dr Graves needed that moment to adjust to how much more natural and _real_ than expected the chocolate brown irises looked. They immediately focussed on him with a look of curious surprise. A blink… then another… lashes brushing high cheekbones, before the lips parted on a gasp, as though to draw in a breath.

“Good morning,” the doctor said, his smile widening.

The mouth opened and closed a few times, as though the android was becoming used to the motion, and then he spoke in a soft, unexpectedly human voice. “Good... morning?”

“Yes!” Graves suppressed an uncharacteristic desire to let out a whoop of delight. “It’s a very good morning.”

The ‘boy’ blinked at him again, then he raised a slender hand and placed it on his own chest. “I’m Good Morning?”

Laughing, Graves stepped closer and made a small adjustment at the base of his skull. “No, you’re _Credence_.”

“I’m… Credence.” Tilting his head questioningly, the boy asked, “Credence is my name?”

“Yes, it is.” Graves frowned a little. While he made another adjustment, the boy kept talking.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Percival, but… hmm, wait a moment.” 

A final tweak closed a not quite perfect connection which, once fully tuned to the rest of the android’s inner workings, and the carefully programmed memory circuits in particular, was stronger than a human heart. When Graves stood back, he found himself faced with an unexpectedly luminous smile. The boy’s features radiated more joy than he had ever seen even on a human face; he was completely taken aback.

“Good morning!” Credence exclaimed, his voice cracking a little. And then he staggered forward like a newborn foal, one long, still unsteady, leg in front of the other uncertainly, arms outstretched.

There was only one thing Graves could do: he held open his arms and welcomed him into his life, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest when Credence clung to him--warm and needy as a kitten.

“Happy birthday, Credence,” he whispered, his own voice no steadier. "I'm Dr Graves, and I'm so glad you're awake."

Credence leaned back a little in his arms, eyes wide and so shockingly full of feeling, for a moment Percival felt nearly overwhelmed and maybe even a little shocked at how well he'd actually done. He knew then in an instant that he would never achieve anything as important as Credence. Even now, only a few seconds into his existence, the boy was more than he could have ever hoped.

“It’s _my_ birthday?” He asked, as though nothing could be more astonishing. "Was I sleeping?”

Here the doctor frowned. He had debated this--which way was best to handle the truth of Credence’s creation--but now that he was stood in front of him, bright eyed and eager, he found there was only one approach that would do. And that was to come right out with it, as gently as he could.

“Well, Credence, not exactly… sleeping.” He curled his hand around the back of Credence’s arm and the boy’s eyes followed the motion in total fascination. “Why don’t you come over here and have a seat with me, and I’ll explain everything to you.” 

Credence grinned and came along easily enough, all too happy to learn anything that he could, just as the doctor had designed him. When Graves took to his favourite armchair, expecting that Credence would settle in just across from him, he discovered exactly _how_ eager the boy was; Credence promptly sat himself directly in his lap, as a young child might do. 

Graves sucked in a breath and then chuckled softly to himself as he shook his head. It only made sense that Credence wouldn’t have matured beyond this point, being all of 5 minutes old. He shifted his weight to accommodate the not altogether unpleasant burden of a full-grown young man, reminding himself that every little detail of life was going to take Credence some time getting used to. 

“Doctor?” Credence asked, a thoughtful little frown creasing his brow as he looked down into his maker’s face. “You’re laughing, but there wasn’t any joke.” 

“No, there wasn’t a joke,” Graves answered. “You’re absolutely right. I was only thinking to myself what a big boy you are.” 

“Not _too_ big?” There was that same touch of worry. “Only… you said to sit _with_ you.” 

The doctor sighed then, hoping that it wouldn’t all come as too much of a shock. The last thing he wanted was to frighten or upset his perfect creation on his very first day. “Yes, Credence,” he began, “you’re quite right. I did say that.” He took a deep breath. “And I’m going to have to make myself a lot clearer. You see, for some time, you’re going to need a lot of explanations, and instructions on how to do all kinds of things, and it’s possible I’ll make a lot of mistakes trying to get you used to--”

Credence shifted around, making himself quite comfortable. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No! No, absolutely not. Credence, you’re-- No, you’re in perfect wor-- Oh my goodness. I’ll just have to come out and say it. You see, Credence, I _made_ you. I… created you.” When Credence blinked at him, he clarified further, “You’re an android, and I’ve just… woken you up for the first time.”

That got Credence’s full attention, but in an unexpected way. He didn’t look upset, only agog with curiosity. “I’m not human?”

“You are to me,” Graves hurried to say, before he’d even thought about that, and his words were greeted with a bright, happy smile which nearly stopped his train of muddled thoughts entirely. “I made you, and I gave you what knowledge you have, like your understanding of what a birthday is, and useful information on all sorts of things.”

Credence’s gentle weight in his lap began to shake, to Graves’ utter shock, with his own laughter. After his fit of hiccuping giggles subsided, he grinned down at the doctor. “Then… I am newborn?” He glanced down at the whole impressive length of himself and another giggle followed.

Oh dear, Graves thought, rubbing at his temple. “Not exactly, Credence. Physically, and in terms of your intelligence, you’re approximately a 19-year-old boy. As far as life experience goes… well, I suppose you could say you’re a newborn.” 

Credence smiled brightly and suddenly rested his head against his shoulder, snuggling in much closer. “I'm very happy you made me,” he murmured. "Are there others like me here?”

Sighing heavily, Graves grappled for the right words. “No, Credence, you’re quite unique. We live on a world far from our… from my species’ original home planet, and most of the colonists here came with their partners and their families. I had no one, only my work.”

Credence did not lift his head, but he seemed deep in thought. His feet slid back and forth across the floor; were he a child, they’d be swinging. There was something terribly endearing about it, to Graves. “But you have me now,” he stated unexpectedly.

“Yes,” Graves said, gently squeezing him close. “Yes, I do.” When he was answered by a happy sigh, he knew he had to get the remaining information across as quickly as possible, before he would no longer have the heart. “You _are_ my work, Credence, but now you’re… awake, your personality will develop on its own as you mature, with my help, of course.”

Credence had lifted his head and was looking at him, wide-eyed and pleased. “Thank you, doctor.”

Graves asked, a little desperately. “Credence, I hope you’re not too hurt to find you’re different? Not human, I mean.”

“Doctor,” Credence began, taking in the worried expression on Graves’ face, “you made me; you are my creator. If I’m human to you, then I _am_ human."

“I… I suppose.” Graves stared at him in awe. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I’m so glad you’re not upset about how you came to be.”

Credence smiled brightly. “It makes no difference to me. I am here, with you, now.”

“Credence, I’m so, so relieved. All I want is for you to be happy and to succeed.” 

The boy’s grin grew even wider, and a twinkle shone in his eyes; it was something Graves could have never programmed specifically, the miracle of Credence’s own inner life shining through. It was then that the doctor realised he would be learning everything from scratch, right along with his new creation.

“I _am_ happy!” Credence exclaimed, as if that shine in his eye wasn’t enough evidence. “And I know you want me to be, because you made me and gave me a birthday. Only a very good creator would have done that. Did you…. did you work very hard to make me?”

Doctor Graves swallowed thickly, a glimmer of something deep and profound indeed dampening his own eyes. He brushed at them swiftly, thankful that Credence failed to notice. “Yes,” he answered, perhaps a little hoarsely. “All my life, I’ve worked to make you.” 

Credence sighed, evidently pleased with this response. He placed his head against Graves’ shoulder again, tucking his legs up and then letting them fall again as he realised there was no room. “Then I’m glad to be an android,” he announced matter-of-factly, “if it means you made me because you wanted me here with you so much. This is the best birthday anybody has ever had.”

The brush of his nose against the doctor’s neck was soft, and as much like real skin as anything Graves had felt in what must be _years_. His breath came and went with the perfect pace of a metronome, and he was warm and pliant… nothing like a machine at all, in fact. Graves, who had never really enjoyed having anyone too close, found that he didn’t mind it at all, if it was Credence. The boy shifted against him slightly, raising his head again as though he’d only just thought of something--which was, of course, the case. “Doctor,” he said, and the doctor could nearly swear there was something _impish_ and coy in his look. “Will there be cake?”

Graves rested his head against the back of his chair and laughed. The feeling bubbled up out of him like a wellspring, like a fount of pure joy. Credence was with him now, finally. “Sure,” he answered. “Why not? It _is_ your birthday, after all.” 

***

Of course, as Graves carefully explained just as he might do with a human child, before cake there must be getting dressed. And before getting dressed, washing up and all the other little details that comprised the building of a day. The information was there, waiting in Credence’s mind, but as of yet, it was simply just _ideas_. It would take at least one practical attempt at virtually every task for that information to properly activate and be of any accessible use to Credence. As it was, he was happy to show the boy anything and everything there was to learn, now that he was here and would need to discover how to conduct himself.

It was immediately clear that Graves would have his work cut out for him. As he made to show Credence where the bathroom was and how to use each of its amenities, the boy turned and began to tug at his clothes--a pair of soft cotton drawstring pants and a simple, long-sleeved shirt, both pristine and white. 

“Oh dear, just wait!” Graves said, staying Credence’s attempt at disrobing before it had truly begun. When the boy froze in mid-motion, head tilting with a frown, the doctor muttered, “I suppose you _will_ need to know the _very_ basics.” He really should have thought this all through, he chided himself.

Credence simply nodded, smiling mildly. “Mhmm.” He dropped his hands suddenly, eyebrows raising. “I don’t bathe in my clothing, do I?” he asked. “Is that how they get washed? Along with me? Only… I seem to know that specific machines for this purpose already exist.” His eyes went wide then. “Oh! Do you not have one of those?”

Graves stood rather helplessly before him, and then laughed at himself, awkwardly. “No, your clothes don’t get washed along with you. They’re washed in a washing machine, while you either bathe or shower… there, in the morning and at night,” he pointed to the large, luxurious shower cubicle, “after you undress.”

“Oh, I see.” Credence smiled. “Don’t worry. You can teach me the things I need to know as they come up.” With that, he simply grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, then dropped it on the floor.

“Uh… Credence,” Graves stammered. “You should wait until I--” Graves averted his eyes when Credence tugged at the drawstring and the pants slid down his slim hips.

“What’s wrong, doctor? Are you unwell?”

“No, Credence, I’m fine. It’s just that you should wait until I’ve left the room before undressing.”

“But then…” Credence sounded a little lost, and Graves looked at a point on the wall above him, just glancing down far enough to meet his eyes. “How will you show me how to use the shower?”

Graves cursed softly. Of course. He would need a guide in almost every task, at least that first time. “All right, Credence. Just… step inside the shower, _close the door_, and turn the temperature selector to a water temperature that you find comfortable.”

“Yes, doctor.” Credence padded across the room and went into the shower, obediently closed the door, and started the water running. At once, he yelped and jumped out from under the stream.

“Credence!” Graves hurried to the shower door, opened it, and reached past him to the dial, turning it from the hottest setting to somewhere around lukewarm. “I’m so sorry, I should have checked the temperature for you this first time. I…” He met Credence’s eyes, which were wide with confusion, then realised he was cradling his right arm. It, and his right shoulder, were reddened. “You’re hurt,” he said, though the minimal pain receptors he’d installed were no more than a warning for Credence to avoid further damage.

“It feels so strange,” Credence gasped out, apparently more curious than perturbed by having been, apparently, singed.

“I think we’d best cool that right away, though it’s unlikely to blister like human skin.”

“What is it?” Credence asked, pinching his still dry left arm with interest.

“Well, it’s rather complicated. It’s a synthetic skin made from various substances native to this planet. All the tests I’ve done indicated it has astounding self-healing properties. But… we’d best be careful. In many ways, it reacts exactly like human skin.” Graves felt the pink ‘flesh’ carefully. “Let’s run cold water over it for a few minutes, but you must tell me if that should become unpleasant.”

“Please proceed, doctor. You know best.”

“I seem to know nothing at all,” Graves said, crestfallen. He slowly lowered the water temperature, tugging Credence under the stream of water by his hand until it pearled off the entire area of reddened skin. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt during your first shower.”

“Don’t be upset,” Credence said, softly. “It’s not really painful.” He gave Graves an encouraging smile the scientist felt was entirely undeserved. At the same time, he was deeply moved that Credence should have a grasp of empathy with such ease.

His left hand let go of Credence and, with gentle movements, he sloshed the nearly icy water up the side of his neck and over the sharp collarbones. “You’re sure it’s not too cold to bear?”

“No, it’s fine. It must be done.”

Graves, continuing to feel awful, tried to smile. “My sensible boy.”

Credence actually blushed, and quickly looked down.

Unfortunately, so did Graves. “Uh… I… I should go now. Can you stay under the cold water for a few more minutes?”

“How will I know the time, doctor?”

“Good grief.” Graves retreated, only then realising he was all but drenched himself. “You’re right. I… I will stay here, outside the shower, and tell you when it’s been long enough.”

“Thank you.” Credence smiled at him over the convenient area of opaque glass around the centre of the shower cubicle. “I feel much safer when you’re close to me.”

Graves nodded, and leaned against the outside of the shower. Then, realising that allowed him to look over the opaque glass, moved away a few steps and began to pace. And worry. Creating an android, in retrospect, had been relatively easy, when raising him by way of showing and telling was turning out to be quite another matter.

***

"Is it time yet?" 

Credence's voice carried a slight echo off the walls of the shower stall over the sound of the heavy spray. "I… I think I'm getting cold. I _think_." 

Graves, on his end, had allowed himself to become quite distracted, searching each drawer and cupboard for the kind of salves that he might be able to use on Credence's self-healing synthetic skin.

After a moment of consideration, he'd realised that nothing that worked on himself would necessarily be helpful to _Credence_, and so he had retrieved a pot of lubricant that at the very least would prevent the burned area from drying out.

Of course, once he was done rummaging around, Credence was already done, and waiting for him, and uncomfortable yet again.

“Oh, Good grief, Credence, I’m so terribly sorry. Again.” Forgetting for the moment to hold onto his prudishness, Graves slid open the glass shower doors and Credence stepped promptly out, wet and shivering and clearly absolutely freezing. For a moment, he simply stood there dripping onto the mat with his teeth chattering loudly, then before the doctor had even a moment to protest, he began to step forward, seemingly into Graves’ arms.

The doctor took a step back, raising his hands up between them both to gently ward the boy off. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain which he felt most shocked by: what Credence was attempting to do, or the fact that for the briefest of flickers, Graves had dearly wanted him to do it. Before he could think on that for too long, he reached for the towel rack and pulled down a fluffy blue towel, wrapping it tightly around Credence, who grasped for it gratefully.

Doctor Graves was just as grateful, if only to have what seemed like miles of pale and supple skin finally hidden from his view. It had seemed only right, while designing him, that Credence should be built with both beauty and intelligence in mind, but those naive days seemed long gone now.

Still, he dared to reach out and place his hands over Credence’s towel-clad shoulders, beginning to rub the soft terry cloth in circular motions. “This is-- You must dry yourself, Credence,” he explained. “Like this.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” Credence answered, smiling as he attempted to mimic the motions himself, rubbing the towel over the softly curling hair of his bare chest. He watched his own progress as he did it, head down and smiling bemusedly; the doctor realised with a start that he’d been watching along with him, mouth gone slightly dry.

“You uh, you keep doing that, um… everywhere. On yourself, I mean. Everywhere on yourself.” Graves knew his face was beginning to pink, and he passed his hand over his eyes wearily. “I’m going to leave you to that and I’ll meet you just outside the door. I have some ointment for your arm.”

Credence smiled up at him and watched him go, nodding. “All right,” he agreed, “but it felt nicer when _you_ did this... “ The towel was moving steadily lower and Graves quickly shut the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Graves had not quite recovered from Credence’s last statement when the bathroom door opened and the boy walked out. Naked. Thankfully, he was holding the towel in his hands, in front of himself. Graves realised at once he’d neglected a rather important step. “Oh, my goodness, Credence. I forgot to get you a new set of clothes from your room. I’ll be right back!” 

“I have my own room?” Credence asked eagerly, “May I go with you?” In his excitement, he let the towel dangle as he started towards Graves.

“Ah, yes, of course you may!” Graves clutched the towel and held it up awkwardly between them. “You shouldn’t come out of the bathroom naked. Let’s just…” He folded the towel around Credence’s hips, then shifted it so he could tug it in to stay up, just above his left hip; Credence gasped softly as the terrycloth moved around him and over his skin. “Sorry.” Graves grimaced.

“That felt nice too,” Credence informed him. “Very nice.”

Graves met his eyes helplessly. “It did?”

“Everything you do feels nice, doctor.”

“Letting you get burned didn’t,” Graves quickly reminded Credence, and himself, miserably. “We need to fix that, to make sure you don’t end up… uh… damaged.” After making certain the towel around Credence’s hips would stay put, he took his hand and drew him along down the corridor to the room he’d carefully, but sparsely, furnished for him; he wanted Credence to have everything the way he wanted it, once he developed interests and preferences of his own.

Credence looked around with great interest. “Thank you!” he said at last. “You’re very kind to me, doctor.”

“Credence, listen to me.” Doctor Graves steered him gently towards the bed, where he beckoned him to sit beside him, and unscrewed the pot of lubricant. “I meant it. I want you to be happy and to have everything you might possibly need.” He hesitated only a moment before he began to apply the mix to Credence’s shoulder.

Credence watched his fingers at work, then smiled sweetly at him. “I don’t know what I need, aside from you.”

Graves swallowed hard. He met the dark gaze for a moment, then concentrated on smoothing the cooling substance into the, now just barely a little too pink, skin. In fact, Credence was healing remarkably quickly, all on his own, now that he looked closely. “The burn is hardly visible anymore,” he mused out loud. “Astonishing.”

“Did you make this… medicine too, Doctor Graves?”

“No, I didn’t make this. A friend of mine did.”

“Do you have many friends?” Credence’s eyes tracked Graves’ hand curiously as he treated his arm as well.

“A few, but I mostly keep myself to myself,” Graves admitted.

“What about me?” Credence asked.

“You’re special, Credence!” Graves said at once, which earned him another happy smile, and also a little laugh. 

“Thank you. But I meant--are you going to keep me to yourself too?” the boy asked innocently.

For a moment, Graves could only blink helplessly. Of course, it had never occurred to him, that he would inevitably have to share Credence with the rest of the world. And yet he must, if he expected his charge to grow and become his own, complete person. 

"Well… well, no, Credence," he answered. "You will meet the other colonists here as well, and you'll be free to spend time with them as you wish." 

"Oh," Credence answered, something a little like confused disappointment on his face. "But… I'm not sure I'll like the other colonists as much as I like you." A little frown of worry creased his brow suddenly. "I won't have to stay with any of them, will I? Not when I've only just found out I have my _own_ room?" 

Graves licked his lips and chuckled a little at that, inwardly pleased to find that Credence had already determined he liked him to such a high degree.

"No, you won't have to stay with anyone else, or even spend time with them if you don't want to. I'm very happy to hear how much you like your room, though." And me, he didn't add.

Setting the pot of lubricant aside, Graves turned his face away only briefly before he felt a very _damp_ and heartfelt hug being given to him by the towel-clad android. In the back of his mind, he was beginning to marvel at just how _affectionate_ his creation was turning out to be.

He briefly covered the hugging arms with his hands and squeezed them, then slowly turned out of the embrace to stand. Just for a moment, his breath washed over Credence’s face, and their noses brushed, and he hurried to get to his feet. “Let’s get you dressed,” he muttered, a little desperately.

Credence nodded, looking pleased to get on with this next new lesson. He held out his arms when Graves retrieved another set of plain white clothes and passed them to him.

“Now, _wait until I’ve left the room_, then remove the towel and put these on.” Graves felt proud of himself for remembering every necessary step this time. At least until Credence’s face fell and he gave him a distraught expression.

“Am I… not pleasant to look at?” the boy asked.

“What? Credence, no! Of course you are.” Graves’ brows clenched unhappily. “Why would you think that?”

“You seem distressed whenever I am naked in front of you, and you don’t wish for me to disrobe in your presence. There must be something wrong with my body,” Credence reasoned.

Graves sighed. He sat down next to him again and met the confused gaze. “Credence, there is nothing at all wrong with your body. With any part of you! In fact, even if I do say so myself, I may have made you rather too perfect.”

“Too… perfect?” Credence questioned curiously.

“Well, never mind that,” Graves quickly backtracked. “What matters is that no, there’s not a thing wrong with you. It’s just that it’s… uh… not usual to be naked in front of strangers--”

“But, you are my creator! You’re not a stranger.” Credence smiled.

“Let me rephrase that: The naked body is a very private thing. It’s not put on display to anyone else, except in the context of… uh…” Graves grappled for the right words helplessly. “When two people are being... intimate with each other, there may be nudity involved.”

Credence nodded thoughtfully. “Intimacy…” he mused, seeming to mentally flick through his databanks. “A close familiarity or friendship. Like there is between us, no?”

Graves felt a tension headache coming on. “Yes, but Credence… there is another kind of intimacy.”

The penny dropped then. “Oh! I understand. You’re referring to sexual intercourse.” Credence smiled. “And that is the only correct occasion to be naked? Other than inside a shower or bath?”

It was an oversimplification but, for the sake of clarity, not to mention his own sanity, Graves found it imperative not to have Credence go on talking about sexual intercourse. So he readily agreed, “Yes, Credence, that’s right.”

Head tilted, Credence thought on it for a longer period. Eventually, Graves could see the question forming on his face and braced himself for whatever it might be. 

"Doctor… I suppose..." Another quick pause. "I suppose we won't be conducting intercourse then, if we aren't meant to procreate with one another? We are both… males, aren't we?"

Credence appeared so vulnerable and bewildered, sitting there wrapped in a towel on the edge of the bed with his arm still slightly pink and tender. Graves hadn't at all been aware of what to expect when he animated his creation, not really…. but a crash course in the troubled history of human homosexuality certainly was the last thing on his list. No, not the absolute last thing: overwhelming Credence's poor, fresh mind held that place. _That_ he absolutely wasn't about to do.

"I-- Credence, it's all rather complicated, and it may take some time to understand…" he began, but then the boy's face suddenly brightened with a beaming radiance. 

"_Can_ we procreate?" He blurted out excitedly. "Did you make me that way, even though I appear male? Is that why I'm so special?" 

Oh Lord above, this was not going at all as planned. As if there ever was a proper plan in the first place, besides bringing Credence into the world with crossed fingers.

Graves pinched the bridge of his nose as he grappled for an answer, all the while Credence was watching him with that same bright look.

"No Credence, I didn't make you in order to procreate with you. And as far as I know, I certainly didn't build you with that capacity in mind, so it shouldn't be possible." He sighed, shoulders slumping as he cast a nearly desperate look towards Credence's expectant face. "I'm quite happy with you, and _just_ you, so you don't need to worry about all that, okay?" 

"Okay!" Credence answered brightly, evidently just as pleased to discover he _wouldn't_ be bearing children as he'd seemed to be at the prospect of bearing them only moments before. Graves imagined it was all one and the same to him, having developed no real drives of his own just yet.

"I'll just leave you to get dressed, Credence," Graves said, hopping up to make his way quickly out the door and asking himself the whole way how many times he would be running out of rooms like this, with Credence around.

***

As it turned out, and only a short while later, Credence was just as capable at flooring him whether he was coming or going, and independant of the room they were in.

It was when he placed the just replicated birthday cake in front of Credence, smiling at his excited and pleased expression, that the boy looked at him and said, “I’m very happy with you, doctor. Maybe we could have sexual intercourse even though we cannot procreate?”

Graves, proud of himself for not upending the cake all over the table, stared at him. “What?” he croaked.

Credence beamed at him. “I’ve been consulting my databanks. It seems intercourse is often engaged in for… fun?” When Graves could only nod dumbly, Credence told him, “If you would like to have fun with me, I’m very pleased to be naked in your presence.”

“You… are?” Graves muttered. He quickly busied himself serving a large piece of the chocolate cake to Credence, then deposited a much smaller one on his own plate; he doubted he could eat a thing. “Why don’t we stick to the basics of life, Credence. For now. This is only your first day, and there are so many things to experience.”

“If you like, doctor,” Credence said cheerfully, nibbling on his cake, then taking a larger bite once his taste buds approved. “It’s only that, apparently, the basics of life consist of food, shelter, air, clothing, warmth, sex and sleep.” He smiled. “It is too early to sleep, but you have already introduced me to all the others.”

Graves made an attempt at eating a bite of his cake; the fork made it all the way to hovering before his open mouth, at least. “Credence,” he said, placing the forkful of cake back down onto his plate untouched, “there is more to life than simply... the basics of life. Just like there’s more to intercourse than fun, or even procreation--its barest function.” 

Happy with his pronouncement, the doctor finally took the abandoned bite of cake, almost as a celebratory gesture. The pleasure of the taste--and of his tidy statement--didn’t last long, as he saw Credence’s eyes widen in fascination. Now the boy was the one to place his fork against the edge of his plate, all attention on Graves.

“There’s _more_ to it?” He asked in a tone of awe. “What sort of more?” Promptly he rose from his chair, a determined expression taking over his features-- a particular look the doctor hadn’t quite seen yet on the boy. “Please, will you show me?”

Doctor Graves also rose from his seat, ready to ward off any sudden advances. In the back of his mind, he told himself it was merely his own befuddlement that had him rising a little slower than he’d intended. “Credence, it’s not something that a person can really _show_ to you, it’s…. it’s an internal process, a very emotional one.” His shoulders slumped, knowing that he of all people was the least equipped on the whole colony to explain to his own creation about something like _love_. What did he know about such a thing, that it would give him the right to speak as though he were some authority on the matter? All he’d ever loved was his work, his-- oh, dear Lord. _That_ was not an avenue of thought he could allow himself to go down.

He took in the warm brown eyes, sparkling with a curiosity that bordered on _need_, and the curve of the lips that were almost a touch _too_ lush in the angular face… all of these features, he knew better than his own. He’d spent hours perfecting that exact shape of Credence’s mouth, driven by a perfectionism he now understood as something closer to _worship_. And there was nothing to be done about it, he’d taken every single longing in his heart and given it _life_. And it seemed life was exactly what his creation hungered for. But Graves didn’t want Credence setting his sights on him simply out of intellectual curiosity; in fact, the thought of that hurt to a rather surprising degree, and for so many reasons. He would be a terrible man indeed, if he were to indulge himself while Credence was so entirely unaware of what it all meant.

“It takes time,” he finally said, lamely. “It’s something to explore when you’ve had a taste of all the rest of life, when… when you are mature enough to _feel_ a… special way about someone.” 

Credence, thankfully, didn’t move to step closer to Graves, after all. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully before yet another question made its way out of his constantly ticking mind. “Doctor,” he said, “how will I know? When will I be mature enough?”

Graves thought, no… hoped, he could at least answer _that_ question without causing himself more trouble. “You will know, Credence, because all the mundane things that are so confusing and overwhelming to you right now will feel routine and ordinary. The moments you will look forward to will be those shared with that special someone, when the world will seem brighter and more beautiful. You will fall in love with someone who speaks to your heart and your mind, and who loves you and cares for you in return.” Graves cleared his throat, realising he’d been getting a little carried away, but he felt he needed to add, “I’ve made you with the capacity to love--to learn to feel both tenderness and passion, Credence. And you will, when the time is right.”

Credence looked thoughtful. “I think I see. Before I can feel love, I need to first learn how everything _else_ works?”

Reasonably satisfied with his explanation, and yet also oddly deflated, Graves said, “Yes, that’s right, but I’ll always be there to answer all your questions and help you with everything.”

“Thank you.” Credence smiled at him, a little absently. He returned to his chair, clearly still deep in thought. A little frown sat uneasily between his sweeping brows.

Graves was about to sit down on the chair beside him again when the boy said something that rather unsettled him.

“Doctor, if it’s called… _falling_ in love… are you sure it can all be planned so carefully?”

Swallowing hard, Graves looked down at him, at those soulful eyes which seemed to see so much more than he had ever expected, connected to a mind so much more inquisitive than he ever could have planned, and admitted, “No, Credence, I’m not sure. In fact, I’m afraid when it comes to love, I’m very much a theoretician. I don’t know much more than you do.” He placed his hand on Credence’s shoulder, squeezing it apologetically.

Oddly enough, his answer seemed to please Credence, maybe because it was less than perfect but entirely honest. The frown smoothed out, the bright eyes cleared, and he said, softly, “In that case, we can learn about love together.” And he tilted his head and rested it against the back of Graves’ hand where it lay, gazing up at him.

With the trusting eyes holding his, and the silky black hair caressing his skin, Graves considered the fact that he himself may have learned more about love on this one day than he had ever known.


	3. Chapter 3

"When we go outside, we wear even _more_ clothes?" 

Credence stood in the front hall of Doctor Graves’ home, regarding the long coat he was holding open for him with an inquisitive, almost suspicious look. 

"Yes Credence, we wear extra layers of clothing outside to protect ourselves from the elements. Terra Beta is a lovely place, but this _is_ one of its cooler seasons." Graves shook the coat lightly to emphasise his insistence, or perhaps hoping he could entice the boy into its folds as one might attract a cat with rustling motions.

Credence merely tilted his head in further thought, making the doctor fear this aversion to clothes may become an unexpected sticking point. "Am I susceptible to the elements?" he asked. "The same way humans are? Somehow I think that I must not be…"

The doctor, ever a champion of logic, nearly agreed with him then on making such a fine point. _Nearly_, that is, before he caught himself; even still, he felt a touch of pride for how clever his boy already was.

"Well, no…. Credence, I suppose I did make you slightly more hardy than that."

Credence began to smile slowly, evidently a little proud, himself.

"But!" Graves countered, "humans are social creatures, and oftentimes, it can make them feel a little strange when someone doesn't visibly fit in, or do things the way that they do."

He thought for a moment, frowning over a fact of human nature that he himself had always struggled with in his own ways. "I won't say that it's entirely fair, Credence, and it's definitely something that we as a species are working on, to become more comfortable with differences. But at the start, it might be easier on you if you appear to be… _more_ like a human than not. You see, there's never been someone like you before. You're entirely unique."

At this last revelation, Credence's eyes grew almost comically wide. "You mean… I'm the only android of my kind? Anywhere at all? And you made me?"

Doctor Graves smiled, happy to have the conversation on this, his favourite and most solid ground. "Yes, Credence, you're the first, and I made you."

Suddenly Credence grinned, a look of such sheer jubilation, it quite took Graves' breath for a moment. "Well done, doctor!" he exclaimed. "Why, this is… oh dear, why didn't you tell me? We must celebrate! Shall we return to the cake?"

Graves laughed heartily. “I’m very glad you’re so fond of your cake, but there are other ways to celebrate. And I think, to celebrate your uniqueness, I’d rather like to show you off. Not to mention, I’d like to show you something of our world. Would that be all right?”

Credence nodded, but there was a touch of hesitation in his manner.

Picking up on it, Graves questioned softly, “You’re not worried about leaving the safety of our home, are you, Credence?”

“I don’t know, doctor,” Credence admitted. “I do feel safe here, with you. I don’t know what’s out there.” He’d moved imperceptibly closer, and when Graves took the opportunity to enfold him in the coat, he obediently stuck his arms into the sleeves. He didn’t move away.

“Credence, I promise you, there’s nothing out there that can harm you.” Graves, rather distracted by the way the boy pressed back against him--though it was his own fault for not taking his hands off Credence’s shoulders--sighed. “I would never let anything happen to you, even if there was.”

“Really?” Credence turned and met his eyes, standing far too close. “Is that because there’s only one of me?”

“Only in part, and a small part, at that,” Graves said, without hesitation. “You’re not simply unique, Credence. In the few hours since you’ve awoken, you’ve already become very dear to me.”

Credence’s eyes widened, and he smiled, and then he threw his arms around Graves’ neck and hugged him. “And you to me, doctor.”

There was nothing Graves could do but to hug the boy back.

***

Credence’s reaction to every single thing they saw from the hover car windows was priceless to Graves, who had not exactly become used to Terra Beta yet--mostly because he’d spent nearly all his time there in his laboratory--but was seeing it all over again through Credence’s curious eyes.

“We’re so high up!” he would exclaim, just after they left the main docking port of Graves’ home. And, “How do the cars stay in the air?”

Graves, who was no expert on that kind of technology, nevertheless did his best to explain what he could. Mostly, he simply enjoyed seeing Credence’s wonder at every single thing he saw. When they landed in the city park and emerged, however, Graves felt the hesitant grip of the boy’s fingers at his sleeve, and he drew the hand over his forearm and covered it.

“It’s all right. No one will be able to tell there’s anything unusual about you. Only my friends and acquaintances know I’ve been working on you.” Graves was pleased to feel Credence relaxing at that.

They passed small groups of people, families and couples, a man walking a dog, and some children on hover boards. On the edge of the lake, a teacher was explaining to a group of teenagers how exactly the lake had been created, and how the water was being kept fresh. They stopped and listened for a little while, as Graves certainly had no idea about the ins and outs of public infrastructure and facilities, then continued on.

Credence seemed especially interested in couples strolling along, and he stopped and watched, smiling, when a man showed a young boy how to operate a model ship.

“When can I use the remote, daddy?” the boy asked.

“Once you no longer capsize it in our pool.” The man laughed. “I don’t want to swim all around this lake fishing it out again.” He took the sting out of his words by ruffling his son’s hair, and the boy smiled at him.

“I’ll be more careful, daddy.” The boy seemed content to just watch the ship slice through the still water and, once the father had retrieved it, he slipped his hand into the larger one and they walked off, the man nodding a silent acknowledgment to them as they passed.

“You see, no one is acting strangely around you at all,” Graves told Credence, rather relieved about this himself.

Credence nodded almost absently. “Just as you promised.”

Right then, the doctor spotted someone trotting rather importantly along the green, wearing a long white coat and carrying a tablet tucked beneath his arm. This particular someone was known to him; rather well, in fact--he was the colleague amongst Graves’ peers who was arguably the most vocal of his naysayers. He couldn’t help himself then, as a small smirk quirked at his lips; here was the chance to enjoy a particular satisfaction he’d long been waiting for.

Graves gave Credence’s arm a gentle tug as he steered him on their way to intercepting the other scientist’s path. “Come along with me,” he said quietly, “this is someone I’d very much like to introduce you to, and you won’t have to worry at all about whether or not he knows what you are. In fact, I’d quite like him to know.”

Credence glanced at him curiously as they walked, and it seemed to Graves that he was relieved at the chance to be completely open even while still apprehensive about actually speaking to someone new.

"Dr Harris, good afternoon!" Graves called cheerfully just as they caught up with the man. The other scientist began to wave curtly, clearly on his way someplace important, but when he saw that Graves was accompanied, he slowed to a stop with a slightly curious expression. It wasn't at all usual to see Dr Graves strolling the park in the company of _anyone_, let alone someone both unknown and rather easy on the eye. 

"Dr Graves…." he drawled, raising one grey and fairly bushy brow. "Lovely to see you out of the lab for a change, I must say." He gave Credence a rather critical scan while the boy faintly fidgeted at Graves' side. "Or _are_ you out of the lab? Perhaps this is a field trip. Have you taken on a student of some sort?"

Graves smiled benignly and placed a possessive hand at the small of Credence's back. "Not a field trip, exactly, and not a student, though he _is_ learning quite a lot today. In fact, I wanted to introduce you." He turned to Credence with a meaningful and hopefully reassuring look. "Credence, say hello to Dr Harris."

Hearing this, Credence stepped forward eagerly, as though he were about to deliver an important speech. "Hello Dr Harris! I'm Credence, that's my name and I was born today even though I'm an adult because Dr Graves made me and gave me a birthday. But we're not going to procreate together, I'm not capable of that although I will be having intercourse at some point after I've fallen in love. I need to learn everything else first, Dr Graves explained it to me after he helped me shower and put lubricant on my skin and gave me cake."

Having finished his "speech," Credence beamed very proudly and held out his hand before frowning at it briefly and changing his mind in favour of an unexpected hug. To Dr Harris' and Graves' communal shock, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the very stiff elderly scientist uncertainly. Over his shoulder, Dr Harris caught Graves' eye while his face rapidly grew redder. "Graves," he said, far more calmly than his expression would indicate, "I suggest you explain all of this _very_ quickly."

Graves pinched the bridge of his nose. “Credence,” he said.

The boy immediately let go of Harris and returned to his side, looking at him anxiously. “Did I do something wrong?”

Graves, deciding to ignore Harris’ bewildered and shocked face for the sake of putting Credence’s mind at ease, said gently, “When I said ‘say hello’, I meant _just_ to say ‘hello’. You don’t want to tell people every single thing about yourself. Or me.”

“I should certainly say not.” Harris straightened out his lab coat so severely, one might think the unexpected hug had completely derailed his life. “I must say, Graves, I didn’t think this was the kind of android you were--”

“Stop right there, Harris,” Graves said so sharply, both Harris and Credence stared at him. “It’s his first day, everything is new to him, and I’m learning along with him just how to teach him about life.”

“Lubricant?” Harris snorted.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I failed to warn him about hot water, and it seemed the most promising remedy on his… uh… skin.”

“Did it work?” Dr Harris asked eagerly, all embarrassment apparently set aside for the purpose of acquiring new scientific knowledge. “I assume you’ve used local materials. What temperature was the water? What kind of lubricant did you use?”

Graves held up his hand. “There are a lot of places I’d like to show Credence. Good day, Harris. Credence?” He reached out his arm and Credence, rather than to slide his hand under it as before, pressed against him so the arm wrapped around his shoulder. Graves just smiled. “Let’s go.”

“But... Graves, I have questions!” Harris was fumbling with his tablet, tapping away at it. “I have a list--”

“_Maybe_ another time.” Graves steered Credence away, happily ignoring Harris’ frustrated muttering.

“Are you angry, doctor?” Credence asked after a few metres, his steps slowing. “I seem to make a lot of mistakes.”

Graves stopped at once. The boy looked at him worriedly, and he couldn’t stop himself from cupping the side of his face gently, to offer comfort. “I’m not angry, Credence. Maybe a little embarrassed. If anything, any mistakes you make are really _my_ mistakes, because I haven’t explained things to you well enough.”

Credence pressed his cheek into his palm, in the process tilting his face and looking at him enquiringly.

“You see,” Graves said, his throat feeling rather dry, “I should have told you that things one does at home are… well, not secret exactly, but private. Dr Harris is just a colleague, and not one I’m terribly fond of either, and it’s none of his business what you and I do together in our home.” He felt himself flush at how much more scandalous his explanation sounded than he had meant it to.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we should go back home and do more private things?” Credence asked. “I don’t want to embarrass you again.”

"Credence it's all right, I promise." Graves smiled encouragingly. "It was really quite amusing how shocked Harris was, I must say." He chuckled.

At last, Credence seemed to relax. When Graves removed his hand from the soft cheek, he surged forward and pressed himself into his arms.

"You really like hugs, don't you?" Graves murmured, holding him close and resting his face on the soft black hair.

"I like your hugs best of all! Is that all right?"

Graves, rather smugly, ignored that Credence didn't have many hugs to compare his to, and chose to feel very special. "That's more than all right, my boy."

As Credence pulled back out of the hug (Graves relinquishing him a touch reluctantly), he suddenly started in excitement and began to gesture towards the small lake. “Look!” he exclaimed, pointing and fairly bouncing on his heels, “that bird has been _procreating_!”

Without another word, he bolted off towards the water, grinning and giggling in absolute glee. Graves turned to look, spying one of the native water fowl-- a variety of duck with pale white iridescent feathers that took on a slightly rainbow cast in the shifting light. This one was making its serene way over the water towards the nearest bank, while just behind it paddled six yellow ducklings.

“Credence, be careful!” he called, although he was smiling as he strolled along after the boy’s giddy steps. “Don’t get into the water or anything, let them come to you.”

“I won’t!” he called back in reassurance, and already he was waiting at the bank, fairly vibrating in his anticipation to see the tiny ducks up close. Something so tender and warm it nearly shocked him uncoiled in the doctor’s chest at the sight: Credence, full of joy, eyes wide with wonder at something so simple as a handful of baby ducks… as if he weren’t the greatest miracle himself. It wasn’t even pride that he felt, rather something far more humbling. Only hours old, Credence had surpassed all of his intentions, all of his hopes of what could be.

Graves stood a foot or two away, just watching as Credence crouched down closer to the grass to await the little family. First, the mother duck waddled onto the bank, quacking importantly as she instructed her young to follow. And they did: one by one, a small swarm of little yellow puffs busily chirping beneath the sound of Credence’s thrilled giggles.

“They’re so _small!_” he crooned, biting his lip. “And they will grow to be as big as their parents?” he asked, glancing up at Graves with eyes full of mirth.

“Mhmm,” Graves answered. “It won’t be long at all before that happens, either. They only stay so small for a short while.”

Credence held out his open palm, hoping that the ducklings might take an interest in coming closer to him despite the fact he had no food to offer. To Graves’ surprise, a few of them did, and the mother didn’t seem to mind it--perhaps because Credence was an android and therefore not a threat in any way.

Holding absolutely still, Credence seemed… almost _moved_ to have been graced with their bustling attentions, but when one of them cuddled into the centre of his palm to peck and nibble at his skin, he was overcome with the biggest fit of laughter yet.

His eyes were watering with it as he looked up into Graves’ face, grinning and trying to speak. “It- it’s _tickling_ me!” he announced joyously, having found the word he wanted.

With all the quacking and laughing, and the sounds of the park around them, Graves almost could have missed what he said next. Almost, if it hadn’t been the most earth-shattering thing to leave Credence’s lips yet that day.

“Oh, _daddy_… they’re so _cute_!”

Graves swallowed. He crouched down beside him. “What did you call me?” 

Credence beamed at him. “Daddy.”

“I thought that’s what you said.” Graves tried to think up the best way to question Credence about this latest surprise, all while hoping to avoid upsetting him again and making him feel he could do nothing right. In the end, he settled for, “Why?”

Credence blinked, apparently surprised that he had to explain. “Because you are. You’re like that man earlier, showing his son how to steer the little ship. And you’re like this duck, making sure I don’t hurt her young.” He, very gently, stroked the little fluffy creature in his palm. His voice was very soft when he said, “You teach me, and you protect me. You give me clothes and food and a home. You take care of me when I’m hurt, and you didn’t let Dr Harris be mean to me.” He smiled happily. “And you _made_ me. So you’re my father. I should call you ‘daddy’.”

Graves plummeted from crouching to sitting on the grass. He opened his mouth a few times, and closed it each time because, in the end, he didn’t know how to reason his new title away. If anything, he was immensely proud of Credence’s ability to infer from his observations and draw his own, very reasonable, conclusions. And all this after mere hours of existence.

“Is it wrong of me to call you that?” Credence asked, the wattage of his smile having dimmed a little with Graves’ hesitation.

“No, Credence,” he quickly reassured. “You’re absolutely right. It’s just that… uh…” He tugged at his collar. “It’s… unusual for a boy your age--your physical age, I mean--to use that term, unless...”

“Unless?” Credence was momentarily distracted by the little duck hopping off his open palm and following the rest of the quacking family along through the grass.

During that brief delay, Graves decided not to confuse him with other applications of the ‘daddy’ title. Especially not in public. Especially not with the very real danger of Credence’s other little… fixations about intercourse and an absence of clothes and procreating and so forth coming back to the fore. “Never mind. That’s an explanation for another time. You know what? If you like the term, you go right ahead and use it.”

This seemed to make Credence happier than anything yet. His dark eyes positively lit up. “Thank you, daddy. I like it a lot. Do you like it?”

Graves could answer that question without hesitation. “Yes, Credence, I do.”

***

Having forgotten all about wanting to return home as soon as possible, Credence was happy to linger in the park, and only slightly hesitant when Graves suggested they visit his friends.

The Kowalskis ran a bakery on the other side of the lake, near the edge of the park. Jacob Kowalski adamantly refused to serve up ‘that computerised food’ when he his wife Queenie were capable of producing the most delicious things with the raw materials provided by the planet. Their buzzing little place was a testament to the popularity of both the food and the people offering it.

“Hey Doc, it’s been a while,” Jacob exclaimed cheerfully. “Oh hello, who’s this?”

Graves smiled. “Hello Jacob. This is Credence.”

Credence gave a hesitant little bow. “Hello,” he said. And that was all.

Frowning, Graves steered him further into the place and towards a table. He remembered what he’d told Credence after that little barrage of personal information he’d given Harris, and told him, “Jacob is a good friend, Credence.”

Giving him a quick smile first, Credence rushed forward and gave Jacob a hug.

“Whoa, aren’t you a friendly one.” Jacob chuckled, patting at Credence’s upper arms as he retreated.

“I think so, yes,” Credence said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Oh my goodness, is he--” Queenie was drying her hands on a towel as she came out from the kitchen. She looked at Graves, who nodded.

Jacob’s eyes went round as saucers as he stared at Credence more closely. “You’re the… uh…”

“I’m an android,” Credence declared proudly. “The only one of my kind!”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Jacob grinned.

Queenie squealed and rushed forward to hug Credence before he even had a chance. “I’m Queenie, and we’re so pleased to meet you!”

“I am pleased to meet you too.” Credence, clearly determined to be on his best behaviour after the earlier faux pas, let himself be pushed into a seat.

“Do you like cake?” Queenie asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.

Graves chuckled. “Cake is all he’s had to eat so far today.” Leaning down to Credence, he murmured, “We’ll have to introduce you to something savoury later, or you’ll get very bored with food.”

“I love cake,” Credence said.

Jacob squeezed his shoulder. “Atta boy!”

“You know, Percival,” Queenie said, giggling. “When you said you were creating an android, I wasn’t expecting anything like him.” She reached out and actually pinched Credence’s cheek. “Is this real skin?” she asked, amazed.

“No, it’s better than skin. Only the best for Credence.” Graves knew he was probably looking at the boy somewhat soppily.

“I can see that.” Queenie was clearly highly amused. She was also looking Credence over in great detail. “I wasn’t expecting you to make him so beautiful. Say, did that happen by accident?” she teased.

Graves gave her a warning look. “Yes,” he fairly grumbled.

Credence was looking up at him. “Am I beautiful, daddy?”

Jacob, who’d been sampling one of the countertop pastries, had a sudden coughing fit, spraying crumbs everywhere. Queenie was doing somewhat better containing herself, but her face was going redder by the moment.

“Yes, Credence, you are,” Graves told the boy, sitting with him and giving him a warm smile.

Credence, blissfully unaware once again at causing a stir, just looked at him adoringly.

“Aww, look at you two.” Queenie sighed. “You’re good for each other. No one should be lonely.”

"_Daddy_?" Jacob asked, wiping crumbs away from the front of his apron with one brow raised.

Graves smiled back at him, a little sheepishly, though he didn't want to trouble Credence over the whole thing. Even still, there was no avoiding the way people were going to react each time they heard it. 

"Well," he said, "Credence heard a little boy using that term at the park today, and he felt it was suitable for me as well." 

Queenie nodded. "I mean, that makes a certain amount of sense!"

Credence was watching them both, carefully taking in their responses, all while Graves just as carefully watched _him_ doing it. Seeing that Jacob still wasn't necessarily sold on the idea, the doctor decided to allow the conversation to continue under his direct supervision, just in case.

"It does, and it doesn't," Jacob opined. Credence perked up at this immediately, evidently fascinated by the prospect of some intriguing logical contradiction.

Jacob looked to Credence, frowning thoughtfully. "Graves definitely made you, but that's not quite exactly the same as a _father_. A father creates someone out of his own flesh and blood, not from his… intellect or his imagination."

Queenie and Graves both raised their brows nearly in unison, conceding the point, while Credence's eyes widened slightly at this new idea.

"Then again," Jacob went on, "_daddy_ as a term of endearment, or as an indication of a certain _role_ in life, _that_ can apply quite easily to who Graves is in relation to you…" Here he grinned, delivering a very pointed look at Graves. Seeing this, Queenie began to giggle. "But generally, using the term that way is mostly reserved for _certain_ kinds of relationships."

Graves glowered while Queenie turned away, hand over her mouth and shaking with laughter at his plight. At the very least, the doctor was grateful that things were much more _relaxed_ in present company than they'd been with Dr Harris.

Credence, for his part, was bursting with curiosity and likely a million burning new questions. 

"What kinds of relationships?" he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned to Graves with a look of sheer amazement. "You mean… not only am _I_ entirely unique, but so is daddy in his relationship to me? By virtue of _my_ uniqueness!" Having come to this new conclusion, he grinned wider than Graves was certain he'd designed him to be capable of. "Then Dr Daddy Graves is also unique, because no one has made an android before! You see? We _do_ need cake, I _told_ you at home!" 

At the words 'Dr Daddy Graves,' both Jacob and Queenie broke into peals of helpless laughter, and even the man himself had to chuckle a little along with them. Credence simply watched the three of them, turning his head back and forth to take in their faces with a slightly bewildered smile. 

"I think _Percival_ would do just as well, if you need to call him something" Jacob said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "But please, keep calling him what you just did." 

"You'd better be careful, Graves," Queenie joined in, "if he's already starting up on the 'I-told-you-so's'!" 

Graves grinned, reaching across the table to ruffle Credence's hair affectionately. "If it were up to _him_, I think we'd be having cake for every meal." 

"Hear hear!" Queenie said, clapping her hands, only to have Credence repeat the gesture and ask if it was the clapping itself that was meant to be 'heard'.

After explaining _that_ to him, and coming to the daunting realisation--now that he found himself having to explain--that humans did a countless number of very odd things throughout their day, Graves braced himself for the inevitable: Credence remembering that his earlier question had yet to be answered.

“What kinds of relationships?”

“Let’s get these two some cake and coffee,” Jacob suggested, nudging Queenie along behind the counter. She pouted, but went off with a smile.

Graves met the curious eyes as steadily as he could. “Well, when two people are… when… uh… one half of a couple. Of people. A couple of people. When one, usually the older party, takes care of the other… in every way, and… and they have an... intimate relationship, then the younger one may call that person ‘daddy’. You see, children tend to stop calling their actual father ‘daddy’ when they grow up, so if you, who looks like an adult, call me that...” He let the words drift off, in hopes Credence would derive the rest.

Credence still looked somewhat confused. “You do take care of me, daddy, even though you’re not my daddy, and you said good friends and family have an intimate relationship, so I can still call you ‘daddy’, can’t I?”

“Ah, well, this is the… other kind of intimate relationship people will assume.” Graves actually felt himself blushing.

Credence now looked delighted, and his voice reflected this. “If I call you ‘daddy’, everyone will think we have sexual intercourse?”

A couple of heads turned their way, and Graves took off his glasses, set them down, and rested his face in his palms.

“Daddy?” Credence tugged at his right wrist, but he had lowered his voice again, thankfully. “I think I understand. This is private, like you said earlier, even though we have not had sexual intercourse yet.”

_Yet_… Graves wasn’t sure how many more times he’d be able to handle Credence talking about having sex with him as if it was the Holy Grail of his newfound existence. A Holy Grail, no less, practically already held in his gentle, long-fingered hands. Like the one around his wrist now…

He met Credence’s eyes and took that hand, squeezed it, and held it between his own. And then, for no sensible reason at all, but willing to swear he only wished to reassure Credence, he raised it and pressed a kiss into the palm.

Credence’s eyes widened, and that shine he somehow created out of something miraculous deep inside himself was brighter than it had been yet. “That feels nice,” he whispered in an awed, soft voice.

Graves wondered whether, to save time, he shouldn’t simply hand his heart to the boy on one of the Kowalskis’ dainty platters right there and then.

When Queenie and Jacob returned with the cake and coffee, the doctor dropped the hand he was holding as though it burned to the touch. Jacob was good enough to clear his throat and pretend he hadn’t seen, but Queenie smiled at them both very softly as she set their plates before them.


	4. Chapter 4

After their outing, quite full of cake (Graves would be happy to refrain from sweets for a long while after), they returned home for a quiet evening indoors, just as the doctor preferred. Credence seemed happy enough to call it a day, having had more excitement in one afternoon than any so called ‘newborn’ could likely boast, and on the ride home, he declared with great certainty that Dr Graves was still his favourite of the humans so far.

_That_ being settled, Graves wanted nothing more than to hide away with Credence for a while, safe in his home and free of any more conflicting ideas that the people of the outside world were apparently more than happy to provide the boy. When they’d left the house, he’d been Dr Graves--and when they returned, he was _daddy_\--and that was quite enough for the both of them to have to process for one day.

For a while, Graves had Credence read to him, if only for the absolute pleasure of seeing how beautifully he managed it right away. The choice of material was safe enough: a simple manual on the aerodynamics of everyday hovercraft; there would be plenty of time later on for the likes of Jane Austen or Oscar Wilde and all the emotional conundrums they would likely fill Credence’s head with.

It was challenging enough just trying to explain the concept of _nightclothes_ to the boy when the time came for it, so the last thing Graves needed were the ins and outs of Victorian romance, as much as he usually preferred it for a light evening read.

“But why must I wear clothing inside of the bed?” Credence asked skeptically, eyeing the soft flannel pyjamas with even more suspicion than he had done with the coat. “There’s already sheets and blankets there, and I’ve washed up as well, all by myself!”

He beamed with pride at this last remark, patting the damp towel around his waist where it was tucked at his hip the way Graves had shown him earlier. It was true: he’d showered all on his own, and without any incident. Even still, the doctor observed, it seemed the warm water and steam had renewed a faint pinkness to the area of his arm that had been previously burned; he frowned at it, reminding himself to find something more appropriate to apply to Credence’s ‘skin’ in the morning.

“Well, Credence, _I_ always wear pyjamas to bed, if that makes any difference to you. It’s a way of signifying that it’s time to sleep, and it keeps the bedsheets clean for longer. “Besides,” he pointed out, “if something happens in the night, and one needs to leave the bed, they won’t be caught naked by mistake.”

Credence gave him a long, odd look then, narrowing his eyes slightly in thought. Already Graves was learning to recognise when he was about to be challenged by a logic that was slightly more _pure_ than even his own.

“Queenie at the bakery said I was beautiful,” he said, “and you agreed.”

When no further words produced themselves, the doctor frowned and slowly nodded, utterly confused at the apparent non sequitur. “Yes, she did. And yes, I did as well, you’re absolutely right.”

Hearing his response, the boy gave him a pleading sort of look, an expression of something like frustration--one that Graves had never seen on him until then. “That’s just it, daddy!” he exclaimed. “If you made me, and you made me _beautiful_, then why am I not to be seen?”

Graves ran a hand through his hair, considering the least incriminating response as he did his best not to let his eyes linger on Credence’s bare upper body. “It’s precisely because you’re beautiful, Credence, that I would prefer it if you wore night clothes.”

Not surprisingly, this didn’t appear to enlighten Credence at all, who now looked down at himself, running exploring fingertips down his sternum and to his navel, then stretching out one leg after the other to examine them visually as well. “I don’t think that makes sense, daddy.” He was about to unknot the towel around his hips for a _really_ thorough examination.

Graves hurried to stop him, on one knee alongside him and with his hand covering Credence’s on the thick knot of the towel. “I’ll try to explain,” he croaked. Credence nodded. “Beauty is very distracting, you see,” Graves stated. “I was planning on doing some work tonight, and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

Credence laughed. “You’re silly, daddy. How can I distract you if I’m naked in my bed while you’re working at your desk?”

Graves wished, not for the first time, that he’d made Credence less inquisitive, less appealing, and decidedly less charming. “Well, I’ll still know you’re naked in my-- I mean, in _your_ bed. So I’ll be distracted thinking about that.”

“What if you didn’t think about it?” Credence asked, quite reasonably.

“I’m afraid humans can’t always choose where their thoughts wander off to.” Graves sighed.

“They… wander off?” Tilting his head, eyes wide with surprise, Credence made the most adorable picture.

Graves chuckled. “Not literally. But we can’t always control what we think about, and our minds tend to prefer to linger on nice, appealing things.”

This made Credence smile. His eyes dropped to Graves’ hand where it still covered his on the knot of his towel. “Daddy… why did you…” He raised it and inspected it closely. “Why did you do this earlier?” He pursed his lips and pressed them to the palm before Graves could stop him.

Graves couldn’t stop his own gasp _either_, and Credence looked at him curiously.

“Did that feel as good as when you did it to me?” he asked softly.

Graves nodded, after a moment’s hesitation. “It felt really good to you?” He was equal parts surprised (having been unsure of the exact sensitivity of the artificial skin), mortified (for having done it in the first place) and pleased (for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely).

“Yes, very good.” Credence examined Graves’ hand closely, now that he had hold of it. “Your skin doesn’t feel so different from mine,” he noted. He held the hand and stroked it, then drew it closer and rested his cheek against the back of it.

Meanwhile, Graves--kneeling awkwardly before him--did his best not to lunge forward and press Credence to the bed, either by accident or intentionally. In the end, he did nothing of the sort either way, choosing instead to rise carefully from his crouch to leave the room with firm instructions that Credence get dressed. 

The boy watched him go, a little bewildered and yet promising that he would do as he was asked. Once he had finished the task, his voice drifted out into the hall softly, calling Graves back in to say goodnight--an idea the doctor assumed he must have gotten from his encyclopedic memory stores, since they certainly hadn’t discussed it. 

Perhaps if the day had gone just a little differently, Graves might have fully tucked him in, or even placed a kiss on his forehead before speaking the command to turn out the light. But somehow, it seemed a slippery slope indeed to even consider the notion; he wasn’t about to tempt himself any worse, and what’s more, Credence deserved his careful distance. Still, he felt a little guilty, as if he were denying something else that Credence deserved, something harmless and sweet that under normal circumstances wouldn’t mean anything more beneath the surface.

He watched Credence slide beneath the cool sheets, smiling quaintly to himself at the process and all the many sensations it produced. As Graves said goodnight, and just before he turned the lights out, Credence’s eyes held on him for a moment, wide and full of something terribly hopeful. Graves left the room, bringing the sight with him to his desk already knowing that work, and likely sleep as well, were lost causes on this night, at least.

***

Nearly 2 hours later, Graves lay in the dark of his room finally falling under the sweet mercy of sleep when he felt something rustle and shift in the bed at his side. The mattress dipped, the sheet lifting briefly, and then there was the unmistakable feel of Credence pressing up against him--thankfully still clothed, he had the presence of mind to think to himself. Beyond that, he immediately roused to full wakefulness with a sense of alarm; the boy was shivering, and not with cold.

“Credence?” Graves asked the dark, sitting up and switching on the bedside light with a quick voice command. “What’s wrong?”

The boy lay stiff and trembling, sheets pulled up tight beneath his chin and his dark eyes wide and frightened. The doctor’s stomach lurched to see that, and immediately he pulled Credence into his arms without thinking twice about it. Credence clung to the front of his nightshirt like a drowning swimmer and shuddered briefly, tucking his head in close to the crook of Graves’ neck.

“I-- I went to bed just like you told me,” he whispered haltingly, “and I closed my eyes and I-- I suppose I _must_ have slept but then…. I _saw_ things, I went someplace else, daddy... I was at the park again and the ducks were there, but they were much too big, and--” 

“Shhh,” Graves soothed, sagging faintly beneath the boy’s weight with his utter relief. Nothing wrong then, but…. almost perhaps _too_ right. “Credence, there’s nothing to be afraid of, love. You were dreaming. That’s what everyone does when they sleep, although I wasn’t fully sure if _you_ would until now.”

Credence lifted his head and looked at him in amazement, still unsure in his fear. “_That_ was dreaming?” he asked. “But-- it was so real, I was _there!_” __

_ _Graves tightened his arms around him, letting himself, just for the briefest of moments, feel a satisfaction at how perfectly he fit. “Yes, Credence, it does often seem very real if you’re a particularly vivid dreamer, and it sounds as though you are. It’s… how our minds sift through and incorporate all the experiences and feelings we had throughout the day. It’s quite healthy.”_ _

_ _Credence’s inquisitive eyes on him were like a drug, the way he listened so carefully as if the things Graves told him were his own invention just as much as Credence himself was. It was absolutely heady, for someone who so loved to teach, and even more, to learn. “It is?” Credence asked. “It’s… a healthy human thing to do?”_ _

_ _“Absolutely,” Graves nodded. “It sounds to me like that moment with the ducks was quite… well, quite a _big_ moment for you, emotionally speaking. And maybe a little overwhelming, which is only to be expected on your very first day of life.”_ _

_ _The boy released a shuddering sigh, slumping down against the doctor’s chest again. “I thought I was broken somehow, and you would be terribly disappointed with me…”_ _

_ _Graves was a little stunned, to hear such complex and layered anxieties, and to think that what had scared the boy most was the idea of falling somehow short of Graves’ high expectations. Certainly he had designed Credence with the capacity for deeply nuanced feeling, but it was something else entirely to see how fully that capacity expressed itself in him, and so soon._ _

_ _“I could _never_, ever be disappointed in you, Credence,” he whispered, surprised a little by his own strength of feeling as much as he’d been by his creation’s. “You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. The most wonderful thing that’s happened anywhere, ever.”_ _

_ _There was a little gasp, and Credence looked up at him. “I am?”_ _

_ _“Yes, my boy, you are.”_ _

_ _Credence looked amazed. “But... you made me. On purpose. I didn’t simply… happen.”_ _

_ _Laughing softly, Graves confirmed, “Most definitely on purpose. You’re right, you didn’t just _happen_, but Credence… you’re so much more than I ever expected. You amaze me constantly.”_ _

_ _At this, Credence twisted his fingers in Graves’ pyjama top and drew himself so close to him, their noses were almost touching. “Daddy…”_ _

_ _“Yes?” Graves asked, hardly daring to breathe._ _

_ _“Can you help me to learn faster? About all the things other than love?”_ _

_ _Gulping, Graves reached up and stroked Credence’s soft hair back from his face. “There’s no hurry, Credence, is there?” To his mingled dismay and delight, the boy nodded._ _

_ _“Yes, there is.” Credence craned his neck a little, his eyes dropping to Graves’ lips._ _

_ _Graves shifted his hold to his upper arm to keep him from moving in closer, distraught when he yelped. “Oh, Credence, what’s wrong?”_ _

_ _“My arm.” Credence allowed himself to be laid down beside Graves, looking astonished when his pyjama top was rapidly unbuttoned and shifted off the shoulder he had burned with the hot water earlier._ _

_ _“This shouldn’t be so red again. Has it been hurting you all day?” Graves asked, eyebrows in a worried configuration._ _

_ _“No, only tonight. It was a bit uncomfortable--” Credence gasped when the sleeve was pulled right off him. “Daddy, you’re undressing me,” he pointed out, voice a little high, perhaps even a little triumphant. His eyes were huge._ _

_ _“I’m worried about you. Your skin has begun reacting as if it was… well, skin.” Graves was half convinced the pink flesh was a little too warm to the touch when he moved his thumb back and forth over it._ _

_ _“Is that good?” Credence asked eagerly. He bit his lip in a very human fashion when Graves ran his fingers over his bare arm._ _

_ _“Not if it causes you pain.”_ _

_ _“It doesn’t hurt _now_,” Credence murmured, his eyes following Graves’ touch, then meeting his eyes._ _

_ _Graves stilled, suddenly aware what he was doing, and that--necessary as it was--it was having an unplanned, and unexpected, effect on Credence, who was staring at him needily, breathing very fast. “I should… put something on this. The kind of thing I would put on skin.”_ _

_ _Credence nodded slowly. “Whatever you think is best, daddy.”_ _

_ _Graves, leaning over him in the bed, one leg half over Credence’s, thought it would probably be best if he went and retrieved some burn salve, as quickly as possible. “I’ll be right back,” he said, departing the bed hurriedly, if reluctantly._ _

_ _He glanced back over his shoulder and was quite sure he’d never seen a more inviting sight than Credence, half naked, peering at him over the bedding with those pleading eyes._ _

_ _Under the jarring bathroom light, Graves stood for a moment with his eyes closed and breathing slow, deep breaths. He was almost afraid to go back into the bedroom where Credence waited, knowing the way the boy’s presence alone would make him feel. It would be just as he felt right then, only far worse--and the way he was feeling there alone in the chill bathroom was deeply _possessive_._ _

_ _The sight of Credence, soft and vulnerable in his bed, needing him… it did something to him that he wasn’t sure how he would navigate every single day, now that it had been roused. He didn’t _own_ Credence, he would never be so vulgar as to think of it that way, but he wanted the boy to be his, even still. More than that, he wanted Credence to want the same thing, if and when he was capable of understanding and owning his independent desires._ _

_ _Graves needed to bring the salve, one that he would use on himself if he were hurt, but first-- quickly, he shucked off his rumpled sleep clothes and turned the shower faucet to its coldest setting. _ _

_ _

_ _***_ _

_ _

_ _“You were gone for many minutes, daddy,” Credence said when he returned, perhaps with a touch of reproach. He eyed Graves in the dim light of the room. “And your hair is wet. Did you shower again?”_ _

_ _The doctor flushed a little; he had expected that nothing would escape Credence’s keen attention. “Ah, yes…. it’s a little too hot tonight and I also wanted to be absolutely clean, if I’m going to be tending to a mysterious wound. Wouldn’t do to take any chances, now would it?”_ _

_ _Credence frowned softly, distracted now by this new thought. “My injury is mysterious?” he asked, glancing down at his arm and trailing the fingers of his other hand over it lightly. “But how so? You were right there when it happened.”_ _

_ _Sitting at the edge of the bed, Graves tried to contemplate how he was going to tend to the burn while simultaneously keeping his distance. “Yes, I was there, but… it seems as though your skin is behaving in ways I hadn’t predicted it would, and therein is the mystery.”_ _

_ _“It’s not acting _wrong_, is it?” Graves could see again a touch of that same worry from earlier starting to rear up: Credence’s strange fear of being abnormal in some unsavoury way that Graves might disapprove of._ _

_ _He shook his head and smiled. “Not wrong at all, Credence. In fact, as with most everything you do, it’s something quite exceptional and far greater than my expectations. The only problem now is that I need to understand how to care for it.”_ _

_ _Reassured, Credence smiled and watched with soft, dark eyes as the doctor dipped his fingers into the pot of ointment and scooped out a small dollop of the clear gel. Graves reached for his bared arm, doing his best to keep the rest of himself well away from Credence and his eyes on nothing but the task at hand. Predictably, and despite the benefits of his bracing shower, he was acutely aware of the boy’s every little breath and minute shift in the bedsheets. There was something terribly intimate about the scene, tending to Credence in his room, in the quiet of the late night while all the rest of the colony likely slept._ _

_ _“Now,” he said in a slightly hushed voice, “let me know how this feels, and if it helps with the discomfort.” Slowly, he spread the salve over the pinkest region in careful circles and immediately Credence let out a breath that carried, to Graves’ great dismay, a touch of a moan to it._ _

_ _“Oh, that’s _nice_,” Credence breathed, eyes fluttering halfway closed. “It feels… so cool and, and… relieving.”_ _

_ _Graves swallowed audibly, realising he’d somehow moved himself closer on the bed without even knowing. He drew back again slightly, hoping to pretend that he’d only come nearer to examine the reaction. “That’s-- uh, that’s good, Credence. Hopefully this will do the trick.” _ _

_ _“Daddy?” Credence’s eyes were on him now, fascinated by his own capacity for sensation and breath coming a little quick. “It… I feel more now than I did when it was burned in the first place. I understood then that it was _bad_, and that I shouldn’t let it continue, but I don’t think I truly felt it, not like this. This… this feels _good_.” _ _

_ _Looking a little dazed, Credence raised his free hand and ran his fingertips lightly over his own lips, testing their sensitivity without thought. Graves froze and watched as the boy gasped quietly at his own touch, eyes dropping fully closed with an unmistakable frown of _pleasure_ creasing his brow. “Ohhh,” he whispered, licking his lips as though to chase after his tracing fingertips while Graves ached to replace them with his own--both fingertips and tongue._ _

_ _He dropped the pot of ointment to the mattress with a soft thud and quickly stood to back well away. “Okay!” he announced, forcing himself to take on a tone of neutral good cheer. “Looks like that will take care of things, and you can return to bed without any problems.”_ _

_ _Blinking at him dazedly, Credence asked, “I can’t stay in your bed?”_ _

_ _Graves, who would have liked nothing better, shook his head. “Ah… no, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’m a very restless sleeper, and it would be too warm, and… and I might… uh, I might accidentally touch your arm and hurt you during the night. I don’t want to risk that.”_ _

_ _Credence, mouth shaped into something suspiciously similar to a pout--and Graves was sure he’d never programmed that ability into him--reluctantly rose from the bed, pyjama top hanging loosely off one shoulder and arm. “If you really think it’s best that I go away.”_ _

_ _Graves couldn’t stop the desperate little sound that escaped him at that, and tried to cover it with a cough. “I think so, Credence.” He tried to smile, and motioned to the boy’s upper body. “Better button that up, carefully, so you won’t get cold or smear that salve on your bed sheets.”_ _

_ _“Can you do it?” Credence asked eagerly, stepping towards him._ _

_ _“_No!_ No, I shouldn’t.” Graves held up his salve-smeared hands and waved them in the air. “I’d ruin your pyjamas with this.”___ _

_ _ _ _“Oh.” Credence actually sighed. He started buttoning up his pyjama top. “Good night, daddy.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Good night, Credence. Sleep well, my boy.” Graves watched him go, mirroring his sigh with one of his own._ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, after breakfast--Credence declared toast, bacon and eggs were fine, if cake was not on offer--Graves took him to see Newt Scamander.

Newt was a decidedly odd fellow. Awkward to the point of annoying, at times, but with his heart in the right place, he frequently seemed to have no idea what he was doing. Yet, whenever Graves ran into any kind of trouble with the raw materials the planet had to offer, Newt seemed to have a useful solution.

After the initial introduction, and the expected awkwardness about Graves’ daddy-status to Credence, Newt was shown the mysterious burn, now healing at last, but still quite pink.

“That’s very strange,” he said. “Does it hurt when I do this?” He poked Credence’s arm, and the boy yelped.

“Obviously, it does!” Graves growled, stepping close and taking Credence’s hand. “Be more careful, Newt, for goodness’ sake.” He pretended not to notice the adoring way Credence looked at him, fingers curling around his palm.

Newt stood scratching his head. “I didn’t expect him to feel pain, to be honest.”

“He’s not supposed to,” Graves admitted. “Not beyond a small measure just serving as a warning to avoid… damage to himself.”

Frowning, Newt took the arm and moved his hand up and down it.

Graves narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

Credence said helpfully, “That doesn’t hurt.”

Graves gave him a searching look but was relieved to see he didn’t look positively transported the way he had done last night, when _he’d_ stroked his arm.

“Just wondering why this feels like skin. Real skin, I mean.” Newt consulted the list of materials Graves had used in the construction of Credence’s body. “I’m going to have to do some experiments.”

“Not on Credence, you’re not!” Graves, still holding the boy’s hand, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Credence beamed at him happily.

"No no, of course not," Newt muttered absently, already moving further into the lab with his eyes firmly fixed on the list. "But I _have_ had some thoughts about a few of these native materials… a bit of a pet theory, really…" 

Graves, still holding onto Credence protectively, turned to him and gave him a soft smile of reassurance. "Everything's all right," he said. "There's nothing _wrong_ or odd about you, or any part of you, okay? If anything, you're having what would be an altogether very _human_ problem, as much as I would have liked to avoid your ever having to feel real pain." 

Credence nestled in under his arm a little closer, eyes on his face as he nodded his understanding. "I don't mind," he answered quietly, "it's not _that_ bad, the pain." 

"Yes, Credence, this time it isn't, thankfully. But it _could_ be, if you aren't careful. I'd never be able to forgive myself if you were properly injured and felt it. I can hardly bear just thinking about it." 

The look Credence gave the doctor then was soft--melting, even. Graves realised then just how close they had become standing there in the lab, and for once he was grateful for Newt's clueless absentmindedness. Regardless, it was time to draw both their minds onto more pleasant things, and it seemed best to stay with something a little familiar.

"Why don't we pop into the bakery again and say hello to our friends there?" He suggested. Credence brightened immediately, though he didn't relinquish Graves' arm the whole way there. Considering his newfound potential to be hurt, Graves allowed it, deciding to himself that it was really a matter of prevention. 

***

When they stepped inside the fragrant shop, they found Jacob and Queenie frowning together over a tray of what appeared to be absolutely delicious cream puffs. Seeing them, it was hard to imagine what might be worth frowning over; Graves had never seen a collection of pastries so picture perfect. 

As it happened, it seemed _that_ was exactly the problem.

"Hey guys," Jacob glanced up with a smile and a slight wave before looking back down at the tray.

Graves smiled back as he pulled out a chair, ushering Credence carefully into it and pretending not to notice the beaming smile that earned him from both Credence _and_ Queenie. "Those look lovely," he offered, "though by the looks on your faces, I'm not sure you'd agree with me."

Jacob scratched his head and gestured to the tray as though it had insulted his entire family. "That's just the thing!" he exclaimed. "I did everything wrong. They should be burned, too flat… you name it! I know when I've messed up, but apparently these pastries sure don't!" 

"We get to _name_ them?" Credence piped up excitedly.

Graves laughed. “Just another one of those odd human expressions not to be taken literally, Credence. It basically means, ‘It’s a long list, and I’m too lazy for it all, so you assume anything you like.’”

Giggling, Credence said, “Humans are funny.” Queenie nodded her agreement.

“You’re a clever boy.” Graves gave him a besotted smile, then caught himself and cleared his throat. “So, what’s happened to the pastries?” he called out.

Jacob frowned. “That’s just it. I have no idea. They went in a mess and came out perfect.”

Queenie hummed. “It’s better than the other way around, honey. Maybe we should just be pleased we haven’t lost a batch?”

“It’s not normal,” Jacob muttered. “It spooks me.”

“I’ll tell you what else isn’t normal,” Graves said quietly. He immediately had the attention of both the Kowalskis, who joined him and Credence at the table. Looking across at Credence, he asked, “Do you mind my telling Jacob and Queenie about last night?”

Queenie bit her lip, and Jacob raised his brows, but Credence shook his head, smiling. “I don’t mind, daddy.”

Graves smiled and patted his hand on the table. “Well… Credence had a dream. A nightmare, really. I thought that might happen at some point in the future, but not so soon. Furthermore, his… well… his _skin_ is beginning to react like human skin. A slight burn from hot water was bothering him last night, after it hadn’t all day, and I think it caused his restless sleep.”

“Aww, honey, that’s too bad,” Queenie cooed sympathetically.

Jacob looked him over with interest. “Poor kid. And that is about as weird as those cream puffs.”

“May I have one?” Credence asked, making everyone laugh. “Someone should,” he insisted, “if they’re so perfect.”

Graves stroked the hand he still hadn’t relinquished. “Your logic is impeccable, as always, Credence. I’m proud of you.”

At this, Credence smiled and... blushed.

“Wow,” said Jacob, while Graves merely blinked at the boy in astonishment. “I see what you mean about his skin reacting like human skin.”

“That’s so cute!” Queenie squealed, looking ready to pinch Credence’s cheeks again, but his own hands were in the way.

“My face feels hot, daddy.” He looked to Graves helplessly, palms pressed to the sides of his face. “What’s happening?”

Graves shifted his chair closer, taking Credence’s hands off the pink cheeks and holding them both. “Don’t be scared, Credence, it’s just a blush. I don’t exactly know why it’s happening to _you_, but I’m sure it’s nothing dangerous. It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No, it’s just warm. And…” Credence giggled. “I feel funny. Embarrassed, I think?”

Graves, hopelessly charmed, touched one hot cheek, and Credence leaned right into the touch. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, my boy. You’re amazing. Just amazing.” He couldn’t, and didn’t truly bother trying to, keep his adoration out of his voice.

“He definitely deserves a cream puff,” Queenie said, grinning.

While she fetched it, Jacob said, “Hey, what about Newt? Do you think he knows what’s going on around here?”

“We’ve been to see him this morning.”

Credence piped up, “He wanted to experiment on me, but daddy wouldn’t let him.” 

“Good for daddy!” Jacob laughed out loud. He suddenly stopped laughing. “You know, now that I think about it… Queenie was making up a dress the other day, from the fibres of that long grass just out of town?” Graves nodded. “The colours of the fibres were kind of uneven, and she said she’d have to dye the dress later, but once the dress was done, washed, and hung up for a few hours, it was this gorgeous even peachy pink. Just perfect for her.”

“Just perfect…” Graves mused, looking at the plate bearing a perfectly round, even cream puff as it arrived courtesy of Queenie. “Like that cake,” he said, then looked at his beautiful creation, who was looking back at him with bright and eager eyes, “and Credence.”

When Queenie met his eyes, she was grinning, and it was Graves' turn to blush. "Daddy!" Credence said, because of course nothing seemed to ever escape his notice when Graves wanted it to. "Now _your_ face is hot! It's not… _catching_, is it?"

Despite his embarrassment, the doctor laughed along with Queenie. "No sweetie," Queenie explained, "your _daddy_ just has a lot in common with you, it seems." Graves’ face heated even further, and he suppressed a groan. Only a day and a half and already it was so obvious to anyone who saw them together, except for perhaps Newt. Maybe they should have stayed back at the lab after all, he thought. 

"Well, that makes sense." Credence seemed to decide for himself. "He _did_ create me, after all. There must be plenty of him in me, and I only hope to find _more_ of him in me every day!" 

Jacob barked out a laugh that was more of a shout and ducked into the kitchen to quickly contain himself. Shaking, Queenie wiped at her eyes and excused herself as well. "I'm just going to help Jacob out for a moment," she choked out, and was gone as soon as she'd spoken. 

Nibbling at his pastry, Credence stared across the table at Graves--who had traded in his blush for a much paler shade after hearing the boy's choice of words. He knew that Credence was still far too innocent to have meant it the way it seemed; the boy was entirely guileless, after all. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't all some form of torture that was subtly intended--_if_ he didn't know better, of course. 

"Everyone's acting awfully strange, daddy," Credence observed cautiously. "Is it… bad that we're similar and our faces get hot when we're happy about each other?" 

Graves softened immediately at the boy's sweet interpretation of events, realising as he spoke that it wasn't entirely wrong. Not wrong at all, in fact.

"No, Credence, it's not wrong. I suppose we're all just… getting to know each other."

Credence nodded over his half-finished treat, pondering the wisdom of Graves' observation before seeming to lose himself in the enjoyment of the cream puff itself. For a moment, the doctor simply watched him sighing in pleasure over the delicate taste, half worried that his blush might return if it carried on too long. It seemed everything with Credence was this way: dangerous to witness and yet even worse to miss out on.

It was Queenie who finally rescued Graves from the depths of temptation, although the doctor wasn't sure in the end how much she was really helping. As it happened, he _was_ beginning to suspect a bit of a plot, from her end, at least.

"So, Credence," she began as she entered the room, once again composed if perhaps a little flushed. "What sort of music do you like?"

"Music?" He asked, cream puff suddenly forgotten.

Graves ran his fingers through his hair, almost overwhelmed with how much there still was to show Credence of the world. "I forgot to play him any music," he groaned.

"Oh Graves, how could you?" Queenie teased, feigning outrage. "Don't tell me he hasn't even tried _dancing_ yet?"

"He _was_ only just activated yesterday, you know," Graves reminded, but it was already too late.

"Dancing?" Credence echoed. "Is that fun? I have some information on it, but I haven't done it myself. Not yet."

Queenie beamed at him then. "Oh, _Credence_, it's the _most_ fun you can possibly have! You get to hold your partner close, and move to the music in all kinds of exciting ways!" 

At the words 'hold your partner close,' Credence fixed his eyes on Graves with a determined expression the doctor was coming to both dread and faintly hope for. "I want to dance, daddy," he insisted, "please." 

"Oh, you've just _got_ to!" Queenie announced, undeterred by the covert glare Graves sent her way. "The _Spring Fling_ is starting up just tonight, even Jacob and I are going to go." 

"The Spring Fling?" Credence and Graves both asked in unison, albeit in very different tones of voice.

"I don't know why we're calling the seasons by the same names we use on Earth," Jacob opined. "We're on a totally different planet, we should come up with some new names for this stuff."

Graves was far less concerned about the names of things than about the dancing ahead, because, of course, he would cave in and take Credence; how could he not, when the boy looked at him as if his happiness rested solely in Graves’ hands. “I’m not much of a dancer,” he said half-heartedly. 

“Nonsense!” Queenie declared. “I’ve seen you dance at the opening ceremony for the university, and you’ll be okay. Besides…” She grinned. “It’s not about the steps, it’s about how in tune you are with the one you’re dancing with.”

This made Credence palpably happy. “Then we’ll be fine, daddy, won’t we?”

Graves looked at him, with his shining eyes, and his big smile, and his tiny dollop of cream on the very tip of his nose, and said softly, “Yes, Credence, we’ll be fine.”

***

By the time Graves saw Credence in the slightly shimmery, grey suit he’d synthesised for him, he wondered if he’d been right. The white rose bud just about dropped from his nerveless fingers when Credence looked over his shoulder at him, after spotting him in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“You look very handsome, daddy!”

“I…” Graves cleared his throat. “I was about to say the same to you, Credence.” He walked up to him, as the boy turned, and attached the rose buttonhole to the suit jacket.

“That’s pretty.” Credence pushed up the lapel and sniffed at the air. “What’s it for?”

Graves smiled. “It’s just a little extra touch of class, to make you look even more elegant.”

Credence traced his fingertips over the matching rose bud at Graves’ lapels. He looked thoughtful.

“What is it, Credence?”

“I’m a little scared,” the boy admitted. He bit his lip in a very human way. “Even if I look elegant, or handsome, will people react funny to things I say? Even Queenie and Jacob--”

“Hey,” Graves said, hand under Credence’s chin, “you’re still learning about what’s all right to say in public, and that some things have more than one meaning. And Queenie and Jacob still tease _me_ about everything after all the years I’ve known them. It’s all in good fun.”

“I know,” Credence said, smiling. “I know it is, with them. But… what about strangers?”

Graves stroked his thumb over the curve of the boy’s chin. “Would you rather not go? We don’t have to. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”

“No, I want to go!” Credence hastened to reassure. “I have to learn a lot of things very quickly, even if it’s difficult.” He looked somewhat pleadingly into Graves’ eyes.

Graves knew all too well what he meant by that. “Ah… well, just… stay close to me, hmm? Don’t let anyone you don’t know engage you in conversation, unless I’m around and can step in if you look uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Credence moved forward and hugged him, sighing when Graves’ arms closed around him at once. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Graves, sparing half a second’s thought for the state of their respective rosebuds after this hug, stroked carefully over Credence’s hair. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent of the minty shampoo, enhanced by the boy’s unexpectedly human warmth. “I love taking care of you, Credence,” he murmured, wondering just how worried he should be about how true that was.

***

When they reached the park once again, Credence’s eyes glittered nearly as bright as the lights strung about the large pavilion. The structure hadn’t been there the day before, and the boy seemed almost as excited by that nearly magical fact as he was by the spectacle itself. Despite his eagerness and curiosity, he pulled close to Graves’ side as they came nearer, spying the dancers moving smoothly about the circular space; from a distance, they’d seemed like nothing more than the tiny figures swirling in a child’s music box, but up close they were laughing, chatting, fully-formed _humans_. It was that humanity--and the reciprocal curiosity that came with it--that had Credence drawing tighter to Graves’ side in anticipation.

“Are you all right, Credence?” the doctor asked him softly, turning concerned eyes on him to study his face in the evening light. “We can turn back and go home at any time, remember.” 

Credence bit his lip and met Grave’s eyes in a lingering, searching sort of way that made the man’s stomach flip, and he knew then that if anyone even _suggested_ something unkind about the boy on that night, or any other, he would be willing to come to blows over it.

“I’m still a little scared, daddy,” Credence admitted, before he tucked himself into the shelter of Graves’ arm and pressed his hands against the smooth lapels of his formal jacket. “But I want to dance with you.” He spoke the words nearly in a whisper, one that was directed towards the rose at his chest rather than his ear, as if he was afraid Graves might not allow him what he wanted after all.

Rather than thwart him, Graves found his arms encircling the boy nearly of their own volition, and he spoke his reassurances into the dark curls just above his ear, heart skipping in a faint imitation of the dizzying violins that drifted across the grounds. “Okay, my boy. Just as long as you know I’m right here if you need me.”


	6. Chapter 6

Credence’s relief was palpable. In fact, his whole posture relaxed in Graves’ hold and with his reassurance, as if facing the crowds had been eased by his words. “You’re always there for me, daddy.” Credence’s voice was muffled against Graves’ neck, but his words were perfectly clear. “And I’ll always be there for you.”

Heart deciding to stop skipping, and lodge itself firmly in his throat instead, Graves croaked, “My boy,” as he held Credence tight.

“Now, now, there’s always time for slow dancing later, once Credence has been taught some proper steps.” Queenie’s voice--clear as a bell and gently mocking--drifted near.

Graves put a few inches between Credence and himself as they faced her and Jacob. “I hope you two don’t plan on making sure I teach him anything fancy.”

“Who can do fancy?” Jacob chuckled. “I’m proud of myself if I don’t step on Queenie’s feet.”

“Aww, you’re not that bad, sweetie,” she told him kindly, and then to Graves promptly said the rather worrying words, “but you, Dr Daddy Graves, shouldn’t keep Credence all for yourself!”

Graves stared at her. “What?”

She smiled brightly. “There are going to be all sorts of girls and guys who will just love to have a dance with Credence.”

Graves, deeply reassured by the fact that Credence pressed closer into his side and asked, “Daddy, do I have to dance with anyone else?” shook his head.

“No, you don’t. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of offers--”

“Whatever happened to making sure he goes about and meets people?” Queenie asked innocently.

Jacob looked back and forth between his wife and Graves and wisely stayed out of things.

“If he _chooses_ to go about and meet people, I won’t stop him,” Graves said with a generosity he didn’t feel. He should have thought things through: it was a dance, and naturally, anyone catching sight of Credence was bound to try his or her luck. Good Lord!

Credence looked at him worriedly and, all at once, Graves felt equally bad about not wanting to let him out of his sight as he did about not wanting him to be… well, tempted, in all honesty, to focus his considerable capacity for affection on anyone else. He reminded himself firmly that Credence wasn’t his property, and that it wasn’t fair to restrict his world to just himself and his few closest friends.

Before Graves could so much as decide to speak, a group of young people veered towards them--former students of his, no less.

“Dr Graves! This is a surprise.” Brian Wilcox--an A grade student and, equally, an A grade bore, glanced at him, then looked Credence over with far too much interest. “New student?”

Credence opened his mouth, closed it again, and just shook his head.

“A relative?” A girl Graves seemed to remember being called Sandra Something-or-other enquired. Her ogling of Credence was even less subtle. “He’s as handsome as you, doctor, so he could be, I guess.”

Graves just rolled his eyes, while Queenie giggled, then pulled Jacob away from what was bound to become an awkward conversation.

“Dr Graves is my--” Credence spoke up, then immediately stopped himself, looking very much on his guard.

Graves was rather proud of him. "You could say I'm his guardian for the time being," Graves answered diplomatically. "He's only just newly arrived on Terra Beta." 

Brian narrowed his eyes as he continued to study Credence. "Well, he must be new," he observed, "since none of us have ever seen him, and there's certainly not _that_ many people here on the colony." He extended his hand then, just as Dr Harris had done in the park the day before.

Credence looked at it for a long moment, then up to Graves' face a little helplessly, before he surprised the doctor by turning and shaking the other boy's hand somewhat curtly. "Credence, " he said. "Credence, uh… _Barebone_."

Graves blinked, momentarily stunned by Credence's unexpected improvisation. Still, it was a far more 'normal' greeting than any he'd ever muddled his way through before, and it seemed to satisfy the young students.

"Will you come and dance?" Sandra asked hopefully, batting her eyelashes in what Graves considered to be a rather artless attempt at flirtation. Thankfully, the effect was completely lost on Credence.

He looked to Graves again, with a touch of panic in his eyes; the doctor couldn't resist but curl a protective arm around the boy's shoulders then. "I have a few people to introduce him to first," he explained, and then steered Credence away from the small group and over to the refreshment tables where Jacob already stood sampling what appeared to be mostly his own creations.

"Who else am I going to meet?" Credence whispered a little apprehensively, making Graves smile down at him in reassurance.

"No one," he answered back with a conspiratorial smirk. "I _lied_."

Credence giggled, a sound that did a whole host of things to Graves that he would be keeping well to himself. "I lied too," he said.

"About your 'surname,' yes," Graves answered, curious now that the boy had brought it up again. "What was that all about? You did very well with the hand shaking, by the way."

Credence blushed, and Graves could swear it held even more genuine heat to it than it had even earlier that same day. "I don't know why I said that," he admitted, "only I needed to have a surname that isn't the same as yours, and it felt kind of… truthful. I _am_ a bit 'bare bones' right now, but I won't always be. Maybe one day, I'll be a _Graves_ like you. A proper man, I mean."

Graves stopped, astonished at this little speech and hardly knowing where to begin. He turned Credence to face him, ducking his head a little to search his eyes. "Credence, you _are_ a proper man, you're not bare or lacking at all. Not as far as _I'm_ concerned. I prefer your company to any other human's, on this or any other planet. I… I think I preferred you even when you were just an idea in my mind, or a hope that I held dear."

He felt helpless, knowing as he heard himself speak that he was already saying far too much. Credence only looked up at him with a shimmer to his eyes that looked dangerously like real _tears_, if that weren't downright impossible. "I love that I was an idea you had once," he said all in a breathless rush. "That you _wanted_ me to be here with you badly enough to… to _invent_ me."

“Credence…” Graves whispered, barely master over his own voice. “There are moments when I think you’ve invented me.” Credence gasped softly, parting his lips with a question on them, but Graves shook his head. “Before I had you, I had _only_ the idea of you, nothing else. Nobody else. I was so lonely without you, Credence.”

Credence raised his hand and touched it, ever so gently, to Graves’ cheek, just the way Graves had done to him several times. “Oh, daddy,” he whispered, “can we please dance now? I want you to hold me close, like Queenie said people do.”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’d love to,” Graves said softly, and the statement was as heartfelt as the endearment which made Credence smile more brightly than the light of the two full moons above the park.

Graves took him into his arms right where they stood, a little way off from the crowd, just on the other side of the refreshment tables, and led him into a waltz. Within a few steps, Credence’s memory banks provided him with the basic sequence, and they danced with ease. Credence, clinging to him and holding eye contact throughout, followed Graves’ lead perfectly, even once he started to improvise and add steps and turns Credence had never been programmed to know.

It was all perfect, like everything since Credence had come to life--the night breeze, the moonlight, the romantic music, the grass soft under their bouncing steps. And, most of all, Credence holding onto him and looking into his eyes. The crowd faded into the distance like murmurs on the deck of a departing ship and, when the music changed and slowed, Graves fully granted Credence’s wish and pulled him close. He wrapped both arms around him tight, and they simply swayed to the gentle tune from long, long ago in Earth’s musical history--when it had been a Moonlight Serenade involving only a single, lonely moon.

Credence pressed close, his head on Graves’ shoulder, and sighed softly when Graves cupped the back of his head and slid his fingers through his hair.

Graves felt so dazed with the warm presence of Credence in his arms, it took him a few moments before he realised the boy was humming along to the melody as best he could. He pressed a smile into the lush curls at Credence’s temple, and a whimper briefly interrupted the humming.

“You’re wonderful,” Graves whispered and, this time, the humming stopped.

“Daddy…” Credence sounded urgent, but he only clung more tightly to him.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

"Can we dance at home?" he asked. "Alone?" 

Graves swallowed audibly, torn over how wonderful--and how _risky_\--that idea sounded. “Are you sure you don’t want to dance with anyone else? Or even meet them?”

Shaking his head, Credence met his eyes with a look that seemed almost solemn. “No, daddy. It feels… it’s almost like you said at home, about… about being naked. This feels… private. I don’t want other people around us right now, I want to be private with you.”

Graves’ mind, and many other parts of himself, were reeling at the content of the boy’s words. Words like _naked_ and _private_; something in him reared up with a possessive ferocity the likes of which he hadn’t even known himself capable of. He wanted nothing more than to grab Credence there and then and _devour_ him, find out how perfectly he’d made the boy to fit him and _only_ him.

It was that last thought, and the tremor of guilt that came along with it, that had him stepping back and taking a deep breath of the night air. “That’s… that’s perfectly all right, Credence,” he said. “I’m just going to take a quick drink at the refreshment stand and then we can go home.”

Credence watched with a puzzled frown as Graves did exactly that, moving away from him to stand a few paces away at the table and ladle himself a generous glass of the nearest unnamed beverage--whatever it was, it didn’t matter to him then. As he tilted his head back, gulping the drink down as though Terra Beta were a desert planet, Queenie caught his eye over the rim of the glass. Her look almost mirrored the one he’d last seen on Credence’s face--_almost_, if not for how understanding her frown was, rather than confused.

She moved towards him, skirting around the edge of the table to stand at his side, and he allowed her to join him, if only because of how desperate he was for someone to talk to in his moment of need. This was a situation _science_ simply couldn’t help him with.

Queenie placed a hand gently against his arm and gave him a look of commiseration that told him there would be no need to go into the gritty details. “Credence has come to mean far more to you than a career achievement,” she said softly.

Graves could feel his eyebrows canting up towards each other on his own face as he turned to her with a pleading look. “Queenie, he wants to be alone with me, he… I think he’s feeling some very _adult_ and very human things about me--” 

The hand that had been placed over his arm raised up, palm outward in a silent interruption. “Are you saying that you don’t feel those same things, too? For Credence?”

His shoulders fell and he shook his head. There was no point in pretending, not with her. “I want him, Queenie,” he admitted, “badly. I think I always have. And that’s just it--how can that be fair? He was only born yesterday, for God’s sake.”

“It’s not like raising a human child, Percival,” she said. “Credence was activated with the entire _adult_ range of feelings and needs. There’s nothing else to compare him to in that way. But if you made him perfect for you, accidentally or not, don’t you think that means you’re perfect for him, too?”

Graves simply looked at her for a moment, stunned that she hadn’t thrown her drink in his face for his irresponsible and selfish behaviour. He could hardly dare to believe what he was hearing. “But I-- he’s so young, he has so much to learn…”

“And he has you to teach him,” she answered firmly. “Percival, I believe in love at first sight. And if Credence fell in love with the very _first_ person he saw, I can’t imagine being more lucky than that. There’s nothing wrong with the way either of you is feeling for the other, but one thing you _can_ be sure of is that it’s not going to just go away. Don’t force Credence to try his luck elsewhere, because he’ll do it--just for the sake of earning this all important _experience_ that will let him finally come back to you. And if you want to talk about what isn’t fair, well… that takes the prize.”

Blinking, Graves realised he really hadn’t thought of it that way. He felt absolutely out of his depth in a way he wasn’t at all used to.

“And besides,” Queenie added, casting him a narrow look. “Don’t pretend he isn’t your first and only love, either. There’s no need for the both of you to suffer, when you’re just meant to end up together anyhow.”

Graves stared at her for another moment, during which he could come up with no counter argument, then set down his drink with a thud. “Queenie, you’re the wisest--”

She silenced him with a shake of her head and pointed in the distance, over his shoulder. “Your love needs rescuing, Percival.”

Heart picking up the pace, he turned to see Wilcox approaching Credence who, somewhat forlornly gazing up at the twin moons as he did, was completely unaware. “Night, Queenie,” Graves muttered hurriedly and set off towards them at a rapid pace.

“Have a good night, you two.” Her amused chirp faded away behind him.

Wilcox reached Credence just before Graves did, and the relief when the boy saw his creator approach was palpable.

“Dr Graves, I just came to steal your… ward here away for a while,” Wilcox declared in his usual, somewhat smug, manner.

“I’m afraid not,” Graves said firmly. “Credence and I have somewhere we need to be urgently.”

Credence smiled at him. “We do,” he said softly, and with a very definite undertone of cautious hope.

It was a hope Graves had no intention of dashing this time, and he returned his smile.

“That’s too bad,” said Wilcox. “Maybe some other occasion.”

“Maybe.” Graves made no effort to sound as if this was any more likely than a third moon suddenly springing into existence alongside the other two.

Credence was by his side already, and Graves wasted no time getting them both to their hover car.


	7. Chapter 7

The boy was strangely silent on the way home but, when he nestled against Graves’ side on the plush seat, sighing when one arm moved around his shoulder, Graves knew he was all right. There was simply no need for words as they drifted through the air with only the soft purr of the engine, the silvery light casting a halo over the distant horizon.

Graves allowed himself to enjoy their closeness to the fullest for once. With nothing for him to do until docking at home, all his senses were attuned to the gentle warmth of Credence; his scent--subtly changed since earlier that evening; and the deep, slow breathing with intermittent gasps of anticipation… oh, he had to be _imagining_ things! Just what had been in that drink?

“We’re home,” he eventually murmured, as soon as the docking clamps held them steady, and he helped Credence with a firm grasp of his hand, leading him through the entrance corridor and into the main living area. “Now we can dance in private,” he said, but the first words of his voice command to the entertainment system were cut off by Credence.

“We don’t need music, daddy.” The boy moved close to him and raised his right hand to rest it over Graves’ heart. “We can dance to your heart beat.”

Overwhelmed by an affection deeper than he had ever thought himself capable of, Graves gazed helplessly into the dark eyes as they began to sway together. His left arm moved around Credence’s waist and, because it felt right, he placed his right hand on Credence’s chest. And his eyes widened. “Credence!” he croaked.

Credence allowed it with a slightly bewildered smile when he took him by his waist and lowered his head to rest his ear on the rapidly rising and falling chest.

“Oh God, Credence, how is this possible?” Graves could hear the tears in his own voice, but there was nothing he could do. If there was one thing he never could have imagined about Credence, it was to hear a heartbeat in his chest, just as if it had always been there.

“Am I all right, daddy?” Credence asked with a touch of worry.

“You’re more than that, my love,” Graves declared, a huff of laughter escaping him, despite the tears he could now actually feel on his cheek.

“Daddy, your face is wet!”

Graves still held him by his waist and looked at him in awe. “Never mind that, Credence, you’re… human. You have a heartbeat, you’re breathing, you’re--”

Credence made a stifled little sound like a sob, then he blinked and raised a hand to his own face.

“Your face is wet too,” Graves told him softly.

“We’re alike,” Credence whispered, inspecting his damp fingertip. He held his breath when his hand was taken and Graves closed his lips over the tip of the digit to taste his tears.

Graves stared at him. “You absolute miracle.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Credence’s cheek, tasting more of the salty tears while the boy took shivery breaths. “_My_ miracle!” he growled against the downy skin, and then he kissed the lips which had tempted him since before they had ever spoken a word, let alone taken a breath.

Melting into his hold, Credence clung to him with helpless whimpers, imitating everything Graves did to his lips, and to his tongue, with endearing eagerness. And within moments, their kiss--sweet and salty and so inevitable--had them both swaying dizzily in the moonlit room.

For a brief spell, Credence pressed his forehead to Graves', catching up with his newfound need to breathe. The doctor's eyes fluttered shut in something like ecstasy at the feel of the warm breath skimming over his skin; he didn't understand how it could be, but in that moment he barely cared. For all he knew, Credence had _willed_ himself truly alive just for him.

"I understand now," Credence said softly, murmuring the words against Graves' lips. "What you were trying to explain to me about being naked…." 

Again, at that word, Graves felt himself flush despite all the things he'd already given in to. "What… what do you understand about it, darling?" he asked. 

"That it's something private," Credence answered, "because I feel that now. That I… I only want _you_ to see me that way. And to… touch me?" 

The tender note of hope in his voice was nearly heartbreaking, and Graves swallowed hard to hear it. Even a mere hour before, he would have tried convincing himself that it was all for the sake of science, a medical examination, as it were. He was beyond that sort of pretence now, fully prepared to own his desires for what they were. 

"Oh god, Credence, I want that," he said with a rasp to his words. "I want to touch you, and… and kiss your warm, perfect skin _everywhere_." 

Credence managed something like a combined sob and whimper, clinging close to Graves with all thoughts of measured breathing apparently lost. He pressed his mouth fervently to Graves’, chasing after the first of those kisses just promised to him. “Please,” he begged, and he was shivering just at the thought, so new to any and all sensation.

The doctor himself wasn’t far behind: there would be no drawing things out. Credence was a young man now, with all the needs and eager drives that came along, and he was desperate to learn. More than that--he was hard where he pressed up against the doctor’s hip--yet more evidence he was _evolving_ well past Graves’ understanding. Feeling it, he groaned aloud. 

“I want to go to your bed, daddy,” Credence whispered, then let out a surprised little yelp of pleasure as Graves scooped him into his arms and carried the boy bridal-style, more than happy to oblige his request this time.

***

“God, Credence, you’re magnificent,” Graves breathed, taking in the sight laid out before him. The grey suit jacket lay crumpled on the floor at the end of the bed, the tie cast aside just as carelessly next to it. The doctor’s hands were shaking as he quickly undid the buttons of the boy’s fine shirt while Credence watched him do it, panting roughly in anticipation.

“But you made me that way,” Credence said, only to have Graves catch his eye, head shaking.

“No, my boy. I made you lovely, certainly. But the magnificence, that’s all you. I’m really not that good of a designer, I’ll be the first to admit it.” He finished the sentiment by leaning down to deliver a quick exploratory nip to one peaked nipple, and Credence responded with a strangled noise. When he raised his head again, the boy’s brows were twisted up in a plaintive, helpless expression. “Please do that again,” he panted with a desperate note.

“Anything you want, my darling.” Graves obliged him all too willingly, over and over, until Credence was squirming under him, the continued brush of his clothed erection against Graves’ own threatening to drive him mad.

“Too much, it almost tickles,” Credence gasped finally, lips turned up in a smile.

Graves chuckled. “I’d better do something else then, hmm?”

“Oh please!” Credence started pulling and tugging at Graves’ shirt--his jacket and tie were on the floor with his own--and eventually succeeded at unbuttoning it with enviable dexterity; that, at least, was still decidedly superhuman. As soon as he’d opened it all the way, he wrapped his arms around Graves’ torso and just clung to him.

“This is my favourite hug from you yet.” Graves held him close, turning them to lie on their sides. 

“You feel so good, daddy,” Credence murmured, squirming pleasurably in his arms. “I knew you would.”

“Oh, you did?” Graves teased gently. “My clever boy.” He tipped back Credence’s head and kissed his long neck, the responding moan and shiver making him harder yet. “I’m sorry I made you wait for this.”

“I think I understand,” Credence gasped. “You tried to protect me again, as always.”

Graves brushed the hair back from Credence’s temple and looked at him tenderly. “I did. I always will.”

Credence lay back, smiling at him. He traced his fingers over Graves’ bare chest, teasing over his nipples, then ran his palm up and down the centre. “I think I also understand… love.” He looked into Graves’ eyes when the heartbeat underneath his touch intensified.

“Yes, I think you do, Credence.” Graves held the hand pressed flat to his chest. “This heart beats only for you.”

“And this…” Credence reversed the grip of their hands, pressing Graves’ hand to his own chest, not quite getting the location of his brand new heart right. “This beats only for you, daddy.”

“My darling…” Graves gently moved the hand to press it into the pillow beside Credence’s head, then leaned in to kiss where it had rested. “I could never love anyone but you,” he whispered against the warm, silky skin. “You’ve literally come to life for me, and I’m just…” He met Credence’s eyes. “I’m overwhelmed by you,” he confessed. “I want to cradle and soothe and caress you as tenderly as I possibly can, and yet I also want to…” He lowered his gaze a little bashfully.

“What do you want?” Credence asked softly, in a tone of voice, and with a look, that made it clear he would give _whatever_ was asked of him, and gladly.

Graves pressed him into the bed, nudging up against him and making him gasp. “I want to show you how much I desire you. I… I want to make you feel every wonderful sensation there is."

Credence was panting, watching helplessly when Graves knelt between his legs and went to work on his trousers.

"You're so beautiful." Graves was gentle but quick, spurred on by Credence's eager huffs of breath, the more of his pale skin and dark curls of hair were revealed. "You don't know how hard it was to resist your pleas to just be naked."

At this, Credence giggled breathily. But the sound cut off sharply when his trousers were pulled right off his hips, his cock bouncing up towards Graves.

"Oh, that feels good," he whispered.

Graves smiled at his amazed expression. "This is going to feel even better, my love."

At first, he ran only the tip of his tongue along Credence’s generous length, relishing the sound of his nearly shocked moan. Even more amazing than that was the taste: that unmistakable salty slickness already leaking at the tip. Gasping slightly himself, Graves lifted his head with wide eyes. “God, Credence…” he said. “I don’t know how this is possible, but you even taste exactly as a human should. Tomorrow I’m going to have to take you back to Newt, and we’ll see if we can’t figure this all out.”

“Oh please!” Credence looked near to tears with what Graves had just done. “Please _taste_ me again, daddy!” His hands reached for the doctor’s mussed hair, grasping to hold onto whatever he could reach and beg for the sensation to come again.

Graves pressed a kiss against the slick head of his cock, smiling at the way it faintly _jumped_ at his touch. “We have all night, love, for me to taste you and more. We have _every_ night, in fact.” With that, he dipped his head and went to proper work, taking the boy fully into his mouth as he swallowed around him and flicked at the head again with his tongue. 

Credence was nearly insensate with so much at once, gripped in the undertow of a pleasure he hadn’t even imagined. He bucked and squirmed underneath Graves’ ministrations, at times with such vigour the doctor had to free his own hands and hold him firmly by the hips as he continued to suck. The tortured sounds the boy was making were beyond Graves’ most lewd and coveted fantasies-- even under the spray of the cold shower the day before, spilling into his own hand, he hadn’t come close to conjuring the full reality of Credence naked and writhing beneath him. Guiding his creation through all of his firsts was a duty and a privilege he embraced, but bringing him to his first orgasm was something he was going to treasure all the way to his deathbed.

When Credence came, gasping and nearly sobbing with the unexpected force of his release, Graves drank it all down, then moved up to cradle him tenderly.

“Thank you, my love,” he murmured, kissing his forehead and smiling when the dark eyes blinked at him in amazement.

“Oh daddy,” Credence panted, “is it always like that? Will it feel that way to you when I do it? Do you think we might taste the same?”

Graves laughed a little breathlessly. He stroked the side of Credence’s face and hushed him softly. “What enticing promises you make. Well, let’s see… I’ll do my best to make sure it’s always like that, or better.”

“_Better_?” Credence’s voice was higher than it should be.

“Mmm. And anything you do to me will feel wonderful, simply because it’s you.” Credence smiled at that. “We won’t taste the same, but similar. Let me give you an idea how you taste.” With that, Graves kissed Credence deeply, sharing the echo of his taste until they were both moaning into each other’s mouth.

Graves drew back with a gasp when he felt the warm press of Credence’s hand on him, and immediately, it sought for a way into his trousers. “Patience, darling. Don’t you want me to-- Oh _god_!”

Credence watched him closely, looking stunned at the effect his touch was having on him. “I want to make you feel good too, daddy.”

“You do, baby. Just looking at you makes me feel good. Oh, that’s… that’s _nice_.” Graves groaned. He did his best to push down his trousers without dislodging Credence’s hand but, ever helpful, the boy just slipped down and did it for him, nuzzling his cock affectionately as soon as the fabric was out of the way.

“May I kiss it?” he asked softly.

“Please,” Graves begged, fighting not to close his eyes at the tentative whisper of a kiss. When Credence kissed the flushed tip again, he felt the fluids welling from it.

Credence made a pleased little noise and licked right across the slit, then lapped up what he’d missed, just below the head. “I like this, daddy. I want more.”

“There’ll soon be more than you’ll know what to do with.” Graves brushed the back of his hand over his brow, laughing huskily.

“I’ll do what you did. I’m sure I can.” Credence looked up at him and took him in again, humming around the slickening length as if delighted how quickly he was getting Graves to the edge, and Graves could only agree that yes, he certainly could.

When Credence swallowed his flow as quickly as it filled his mouth and throat, Graves was certain he’d never come harder or more quickly. The mere sight of Credence lapping at him hungrily threatened to keep him half hard even so.

“You did beautifully, darling. Come up here.” 

Credence snuggled into his arms with a sigh. “Do we have to go to sleep yet?”

Chuckling, Graves squeezed him tight. “Not at all. You’ve been driving me mad with all your questions about sex, I wouldn’t dream of making either of us go to sleep before I’ve been inside you.” When Credence peered up at him excitedly, Graves groaned, “After we’ve had a little rest!”


	8. Chapter 8

For some time, they lay together, listless and panting as they shared sweet words and even sweeter looks. Graves, for his part, was revelling in the freedom of being in Credence's naked presence without being gripped by the need to flee the room. 

Head tucked into the crook of Graves' shoulder, Credence softly asked "How did you mean about being _inside_ me?" 

The doctor coloured faintly red at the question; there was so much Credence didn't know yet, he had to remind himself of Queenie's stern lecture and all its many fine points in order to bolster his own courage. 

"Well, Credence," he said, "you know about procreation, and the act that generally is performed to make it happen?"

Credence frowned (adorably, Graves thought) as he perused his mental inventory of facts. "Well, I understand it in that sense, the procreative one," he carefully ventured, "but I'm not sure how it's done… between two men."

Now Credence was blushing along with him, and tracing over Graves' naked form with darkening, appreciative eyes. "But, however it's done, if it's anything similar to what goes on between males and females… then I want to do that with _you_." He cuddled close then and added in a whisper, "I can't imagine anything more wonderful than having you _inside_ me."

Warmed to his core by the boy’s trust and need, Graves enfolded him tightly. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.” When Credence shivered pleasurably in his arms, he said, “In fact, why don’t I give you a taste of that while we’re still resting?”

“Oh, will there be more tasting?” Credence asked excitedly.

Chuckling, Graves rolled him onto his back and reached over to the bedside drawer. “There can be more of that, too, if you enjoy this…” He parted Credence’s thighs gently, looking deep into his eyes. “I think you will.” Credence nodded, as if the mere anticipation of whatever Graves might do was enjoyable. When Graves first caressed his opening with a generously slickened finger, he gasped.

“There? Is that how-- _Aaah!_” Eyes widening when the single finger breached him, Credence stared at him. “But how can you possibly fit?” He was breathing hard, and Graves felt sure it wasn’t with fear.

Smiling, and kissing the parted lips briefly, Graves promised, “Trust me, my darling, I will take my time opening you up for me, and you’ll enjoy every moment of it.”

Credence bit his lip, nodding. “I do trust you, daddy, and I’m enjoying this already. Can you…” He blushed.

“Do this?” Graves slid his finger further inside the tight warmth, then partly out, and back in.

“Yes…” Credence breathed, squirming.

Watching his every reaction carefully, Graves repeated the motion a few times before adding a second finger. “See how well two fingers fit inside you now?” he asked, unreasonably turned on by the mere explanation of what he was doing to Credence. Not to mention by Credence’s pleasurable whimper.

“_Mhmm!_” Credence held onto the arm Graves was using to support himself, his other arm flung up over his head, fingers clutching the corner of the pillow. He parted his legs wider of his own accord, gasping when his shifting pulled the fingers further inside.

“Impatient?” Graves teased. When he got a nod in response, he crooked his fingers. The resulting drawn out moan made him feel rather proud of himself, and determined to hear more of them. “Beautiful,” he told Credence, voice gone deep and husky.

“Daddy, I...” Credence looked ready to beg, but seemed to struggle for the right words. He watched, spellbound, as Graves shifted lower on the bed, arranging one long leg over his shoulder and tilting Credence in the process--up and a little on his side. He’d held the two fingers clenched inside himself throughout the shift in position, protesting with a soft grumble when they were withdrawn.

Graves smirked up at him and dipped his head between the creamy thighs. His tongue slipped easily into the widened channel--slick with the safe, natural lubricant.

Credence cried out, random sounds and pleading, surprised words mingling. One hand still tormenting the pillow corner, the other moved into Graves’ hair, none too subtly trying to bring his head even closer and drive the exploring tongue further inside.

The unselfconscious way the boy displayed his need so openly made Graves love him even more. He would happily drive Credence wild like this--right up to the brink and past it, over and over.

The passionate cries began to reach a point of greater urgency, fingers tugging in his hair with just a touch of bite, and Graves knew their period of rest was coming to an end. He was hard again already, fighting himself not to rut against the sheets at the sound of Credence's ecstasy--when he glanced up, he saw the boy was just as ready as he was, his hand having relinquished the pillow to reach down and grasp his own dripping cock.

"Oh god, Credence," the doctor gasped out, the warm breath of his words skimming over the boy's tender opening and making him squirm even further. "I _want_ you… do you feel ready for me? It's… of course it's okay if it's too soon."

He couldn't help but huff out a little chuckle at the tug on his hair that served as a sort of answer in itself. "Yes!" Credence groaned, "_please_ daddy… "

Graves scrambled up between his spread legs in an instant, feeling just as desperate. He was so turned on, it was almost too much just slicking himself with the lubricant, his own fluids dripping and mingling with the clear gel as he did it. Credence watched him avidly, with his plaintive looking eyebrows twisted up and his face flushed a soft pink all the way down to the curls at his chest. "God, you're a sight to break a man," Graves breathed, swirling the pad of one slickened thumb around the boy's opening to test its give and watch his face melt into an expression of begging.

“Is that… good?” Credence muttered, barely able to form words.

Graves didn’t know whether to laugh or kiss him, so he did both, chuckling softly into the open mouth as he covered it. When he drew back a moment later, he whispered, “It’s very, very good.”

Credence looked pleased with his answer, but squirmed until Graves’ finger tip slipped inside his slick hole. “Don’t make me wait anymore, daddy!”

“Oh god, no. I won’t, my love.” Graves bent the boy’s upper leg at the knee, keeping him half on his side. He held the shining eyes to ensure Credence was in no discomfort, and pushed inside him from behind, thanking his lucky stars the boy was so flexible that he could face him and make this as easy as possible the first time.

“_Ohhh!_” Credence gasped, eyes widening further with each inch. “Oh daddy, that’s…” He gave an endearing half moan, half squeak the moment Graves was all the way inside and pressed hard up against him.

“You okay, baby?” Graves stroked over his hair, supporting himself with one arm and doing his best not to come on the spot. When Credence nodded eagerly, he took a deep breath. “You feel so good, gripping me so tight.” With real effort, he drew his hips back a little, then pushed all the way back in, and Credence clutched the pillow with both hands now and let out a _groan_ of sheer need.

Graves panted, fingers tightening on Credence’s kneecap as he adjusted his leg to accommodate himself even better. “Tell me if…” He closed his eyes against the sight of Credence biting his lip on even the slightest shift from him. “Tell me if I’m taking you too hard.”

Nodding jerkily, Credence looked simply hopeful and anything but worried. “I want you to, daddy. It’s _so good_ to feel you like this. Please!”

And Graves began to snap his hips back and forth, thrusting hard yet carefully, each motion dragging another new and wonderful sound from Credence’s throat. If the moans and whines and hiccuping gasps weren’t threatening to drive him mad, the sight of the boy under him, with his pleading eyes fixed on his own, would.

When Graves leaned slightly forward, trying his best to kiss Credence's mouth as he bounced under the gentle force of his thrusts, the boy let out a high, tremulous keen that set the doctor's blood on fire. Eyes that had been previously wide, holding Graves' gaze, now clenched shut in a look of pleasure that nearly mimicked distress, it was so stark and full of concentration.

"_Ohh- hhhh…_" Credence stuttered out a breathless moan against the doctor's searching lips. Graves thrust again with intention, closing his own eyes briefly at the sharp, wounded sound the motion awarded him. Credence was close, he knew it, and so was he. 

"Oh daddy, _daddy_… Oh, it's- I'm… " His nearest hand relinquished the pillow to reach down and grip at Graves' hip slightly behind himself, to hold him, to pull him in, to show without words just how good it was to have him _right there_. 

"It's okay, baby, me too," Graves gritted out the words. "I'm right there with you, sweetheart, oh _god_…"

Credence shuddered hard against him, jaw dropping open on a soundless cry as he spilled out onto the tangled sheets with force. Graves hadn't lied--he was nearly in perfect time with him, locking his own fingers over the hand on his hip and shaking with a rapture somehow even more intense than the first.

***

The first thing Graves saw and felt on waking up was Credence, snuggling into his arms, already awake and smiling blissfully. “No nightmares last night?” he asked, then kissed his brow tenderly.

Credence gave a soft sigh. “None. Only good dreams.”

“Mmm. That’s nice to hear. How about after breakfast, we start on making a few of them come true?” Graves murmured suggestively.

Credence nodded eagerly.

And then the new message alert on Graves’ communications interface lit up, and he sighed. “Message accepted. Graves here. This had better be impor--”

Newt’s rather overexcited voice interrupted him. “Percival! You’ll never believe this. I hope you’re sitting. If not, you might like to--”

“I’m lying in bed, Newt, because it’s _extremely_ early in the morning, and I’ve just woken up.” Graves rolled his eyes, and Credence grinned at him.

“It’s about Credence, and… well, about everything made out of Terra Beta’s raw materials.”

Graves, hoping this wasn’t bad news in some way, urged, “Newt, what about Credence?” He tightened his arms around the boy.

“Uh… there’s a possibility… I’d even go as far as to say a likelihood that he… um…”

“_Newt!_”__

_ _Newt took a deep breath. “He might end up becoming human. At _some_ point! And only if that’s what you actually want. I mean you probably do, considering how extremely lifelike you made him.” He swallowed, then continued, “Not anytime soon, I don’t think, since he’s rather more complex than the plant fibres and soil samples I’ve tested, so that would require extraordinary circumstances like… well, I’m not really sure what would speed this up, but it seems everything here adapts to become just exactly what’s most desired by whoever builds or works with it.”_ _

_ _Graves looked into Credence’s eyes and, at the look in them, smiled at him softly. “Newt,” he called across the room._ _

_ _“Yes, Percival?”_ _

_ _“The extraordinary circumstance you’re looking for is love.”_ _

_ _“Love? Are you… uh… are you _sure?_”_ _

_ _“I guarantee it. End call.”_ _

_ _Credence giggled, and Percival flipped him on his back, pressing him into the bed. “Don’t you agree, darling?”_ _

_ _Credence arched his neck for a quick kiss. “I do, daddy.”_ _


End file.
